I Know: Or, How Ahsoka Tano Saved the Skywalkers
by SianShanya
Summary: In a galaxy where Ahsoka learns of her master's marriage before leaving(because come on, Anakin is the least subtle person ever), Evil Plans are thwarted left and right. Also posted on AO3.
1. Prologue

Ahsoka had known for months. Honestly, it hadn't been that hard to figure out. The first thing she noticed was that her master never slept in the Temple when they were on Coruscant. Then, there had been the Blue Shadow Virus incident on Naboo, during which Anakin had practically lost his mind with worry over Ahsoka and the Senator. Basically, any time their missions involved Senator Amidala, Anakin could be counted on to freak out, in one way or another. However, concrete proof had not come until just four months before Ahsoka left the Order. They'd been escorting the Senator back to Coruscant after a particularly fraught diplomatic mission to Taris. Ahsoka, unable to sleep, had been walking to the canteen, hoping to find an off duty trooper to talk to, when Senator Amidala's door hissed open, and her master's left boot appeared in the corridor. Ahsoka immediately flung herself around the corner, and listened.

"I'm just glad you're safe" said Anakin softly, looking over his shoulder at the diminutive senator. She gave him a sweet smile, the one, now that Ahsoka thought of it, she reserved only for Anakin. Amidala stretched up on her toes and pressed her mouth to Anakin's.

"I'm fine, darling." She said. "You should get back to your quarters. This is hardly my apartment on Coruscant."

"I know." He said, and Ahsoka definitely heard a tinge of disappointment. "As soon as we drop you off, Ahsoka and I are headed to the Outer Rim again. I'll be gone for at least four months this time, maybe longer. I'll miss you, my love."

Ahsoka choked back her gasp and fled back to her bunk, mind racing. She had suspected that Anakin cared for the Senator as more than a friend, yes, but to think they were in a secret relationship? It was insane. Well, that certainly explained his sympathy to her feelings for Lux. As she listened to her master's boots in the corridor, Ahsoka couldn't help but worry for him. If the council, no, if _anyone_ ever found out about what she had just seen, Anakin's career would be over. She resolved to keep it to herself. Ahsoka would not be the reason her master lost everything.

20 BBY, the Jedi Temple

"I understand. More than anything, I understand wanting to walk away from the Order." Anakin's voice was resigned. Ahsoka kept her face turned away. If she looked at him now, she knew she would stay.

"I know." She said, and then the enormity of his words hit her. He wasn't merely supporting her, he was talking about Senator Amidala! She couldn't let him face this alone. She whirled around. "Master, I know. I know about you and the Senator." Anakin's eyes widened, and his face went white beneath his tan.

"Ahsoka, I-"  
"No, listen. I've known for months now. I'm not gonna turn you in or anything. What I'm saying is, you shouldn't have to deal with this secret alone. Promise me, Master. Promise me you'll talk to Obi-Wan about this. He'll understand, trust me."

"Ahsoka, I can't. It's too risky." Ahsoka reached out and grabbed his arm.

"No. Please. As-as a last gift to me. I'd feel so much better knowing you had someone to talk to. Just-please. I have a terrible feeling that something bad will happen if you don't tell him. Please, trust me."

Anakin sighed.

"I do trust you. I-I'll tell him." Ahsoka smiled, relieved.

"Thank you, Master. I hope we'll meet again."

"The Force will be with you always, Ahsoka." She smiled again, squeezed his arm once more, and the turned to the Temple stairs.


	2. Return of the Ex-Padawan

19 BBY, Corellia, Capital City of Coronet

Ahsoka Tano was an extremely adaptable being. Two years of nonstop fighting in the Clone Wars had taught her the value of being so. As such, barely half an hour passed between the HoloNet broadcast which accused the Jedi Order of treason and Ahsoka's arrival at Coronet's spaceport, all her worldly belongings in the rucksack on her back, and a thick traveling cloak around her shoulders. In the past year living on Corellia, Ahsoka had learned how to spot a ship, as well as a captain. As such, she bypassed both the beat up junkers, and the sleek craft Corellia was famous for. A wide, disk shaped smuggling vessel caught her eye, but it's captain, an angry looking human, was having heated words with a dark-skinned boy who couldn't be more than twelve, and Ahsoka was not interested in having children around to defend. Finally, she spotted what she was looking for; a middle class transport vessel with a rough-looking Rodian captain.

"I'm looking for a ride to Coruscant. I've got credits and papers. No questions." She drew her brows down in her best approximation of Anakin's "General face", which screamed, "I'm completely in charge and know exactly what I'm doing, don't mess with me." Ashsoka wasn't sure she'd gotten it quite right, but apparently she was close enough, because the Rodian shrugged and held out a gloved hand to take the proffered credit tabs.

"Come on, then, kid." Ahsoka slipped a hand under her traveling cloak and palmed the hilt of her blaster for comfort, then followed him aboard.

"I know you said 'no questions', kid, but you do know that serious shit's going down on Coruscant right now, right? It's probably no place for a skinny little girl like you."

"I'm paying you for a ride, not safety advice." Snapped Ahsoka. "Let's go."

The trip, though short, seemed to take years. Ahsoka's mind simply would not quiet, despite her efforts to meditate. She was too worried for her friends. The only possibility she did not consider was that the Jedi were actually traitors. That was so stupid, it was laughable. No, something had clearly gone wrong, and Ahsoka needed to make sure the people she loved were safe. She smiled at the thought. The lack of shame that came with admitting she loved someone had been the best thing about leaving the Order.

Coruscant looked much the same as always, form orbit. It was early evening, local time, and the city's lights were just beginning to come on. As the ship sank through the atmosphere, Ahsoka automatically scanned the skyline for the landmarks she knew so well. The sky was oddly hazy, even for dusk, and Ahsoka squinted to see. Suddenly, as the ship sank lower, she realized where the haze had originated from. There was a wide plume of smoke in the center of her vision.

The Jedi Temple was burning.

Ahsoka clenched her fists beneath her cloak, trying to hold her emotions in check. She could feel it now, too, turning her stomach. The Dark Side of the Force was everywhere. Something horrible had happened.

Since she could not very well go to the temple for answers, she decided on the next best thing, and headed towards the sleek gray buildings which housed the Senate Apartments. Her rented airspeeder glided to a halt at Amidala's building just as the sun sank below the skyline. She walked up to the guard and smiled disarmingly at him.

"Hi, I'm hoping to visit Senator Amidala. She's an old friend of mine." The man gave her a once-over, taking in her cloak, rucksack, and worried expression.

"I am afraid that no visitors are allowed into this building unless previously approved by an occupant. I am sorry."

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. Then, she closed them, concentrated, and, for the first time in a year, reached for the Force. She held up a hand.

"I have the Senator's approval." She said, waving her hand in front of his face, and hoping to Force she could still perform the trick. After a long moment, the guard's eyes glazed over, and he punched the access code.

"You….have the Senator's approval." He said dully.

Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, Ahsoka took the turbolift up to the Senator's floor, and buzzed in.

"Threepio, could you tell the Senator that a friend from the Alderaan conference is here to see her?" As she spoke, Ahsoka pulled her hood lower over her forehead. She had no idea who watched the security tapes, and did not want to draw any attention to herself. The door opened, and she stepped inside and lowered the hood. No sooner had the door hissed closed than Padme Amidala flung her arms around her.

"Ahsoka! I am so happy to see you!" Amidala took her hand and pulled her into the sitting room of her apartment. "What are you doing here? Haven't you seen the HoloNet? It's not safe here for you!"

"I saw." Said Ahsoka. The senator's face was flushed, and, though she wore loosely cut robes, Ahsoka could see the line of her swollen stomach. "Are-are you pregnant?"

Amidala sighed, and nodded.

"It's his." She said, in response to Ahsoka's questioning look. "He told me what you said before you left. Thank you. Having Obi-Wan has….helped. But, it's the least of my concerns now. How much do you know of what happened two days ago?"

"Only what was on the HoloNet." Said Ahsoka. "That the Jedi have been declared traitors. What happened to the temple?" The other woman looked away, down to the richly decorated rug under her feet.

"It was the clone troopers." She said softly. "I-they-I think they've been ordered to turn on their generals. I don't know very much, but Palpatine is behind this."

"The Chancellor?!" Ahsoka was shocked. "I knew he had conflicting views with the Order, but to wipe them out? How could he?"

"I don't know. In session yesterday, he abolished the Republic and crowned himself Emperor. To thunderous applause." She added bitterly. "Obi-Wan contacted me last night. He survived the clones' betrayal, but he wouldn't say anything over the comm. Just that an ally would come to get me off world. Apparently if Palpatine discovers my condition, my child will be a target. I expect they'll come tonight. Our new Emperor closed the Senate Session this afternoon. It won't meet again for six months. Many senators are leaving tonight. It's a good cover."

"I'm coming with you, when they do come." Said Ahsoka immediately. "I-I don't suppose you've heard form Anakin, have you, Senator?" Amidala sighed and shook her head.

"No. I'm worried about him. He was here on Coruscant when the orders came through, and he's always been close with Palpatine. I hate to admit it, but even I don't know what he'd do." She gestured to her bag, which was packed and ready on the sofa beside her. "I'm hoping Obi-Wan will know more."

"No kidding." Said Ahsoka with just a trace of humor. "When are you due?" she asked, trying to change the subject. The less they talked about Anakin, the better, she thought. Amidala finally cracked a little smile, looking down at her middle.

"In two weeks. Everything's all happening at once." She sighed again. "I just hope my child's father is there to see when he's born."

It was full dark when Senator Amidala's commlink chirped in the quiet room. Ahsoka immediately snapped out of her meditative trance, and Amidala looked up from her datapad. Bail Organa's voice rang out:

"Padme, your transport arrangements have been made. Are you ready for a little time off with friends?"

Amidala took a deep breath, and answered,

"Yes. I think it will be good to get away from work for a little while. And I think I've picked up another traveling partner, if that's alright with you."

"The more the merrier!" said Senator Organa. Ahsoka admired his acting skills. Anyone who didn't know better would think he was just discussing vacation plans with a friend. "Meet me at Hangar 2 as soon as you're ready, and we'll be off for a week in the Alderaan sunshine!" The comm crackled off. Amidala wasted no time. She stood and signaled Threepio to take her and Ahsoka's bags.

"Come on, then, Ahsoka. Let's go. Oh, and, Ahsoka?"

"Yes, Senator?"

"If you want to convince anyone that we're friends, you'll need to call me Padme."

"I-I think I can do that…..Padme." said Ahsoka, and followed her out of the apartment.

Hangar 2 was empty but for one ship when they arrived. Senator Organa's personal transport ship waited in the vast space. It was all Ahsoka could do not to sprint for it. Only the two armed clone troopers guarding the hangar kept her from doing exactly that. Instead, she forced herself to match Sen-no, _Padme's_ stately stride. With her red cloak and hood, she knew she looked no more conspicuous than any of Padme's handmaidens or aides. All the same, Ahsoka didn't breathe easily until the gangway sealed behind Threepio.

Padme wasted no time with pleasantries.

"Where are we going?" she asked. Bail Organa, who had just entered the corridor, gestured for them to follow.

"We're going to meet General Kenobi." He said, as they walked towards the cockpit. "He and a few others are aboard a ship in the Mid Rim. Are we clear?" the last question had been addressed to the pilot, who nodded.

"We just passed out of Coruscant's atmosphere." The man confirmed. "Clear to make the jump to hyperspace." Organa nodded, and the pilot flipped the switch. As the stars stretched out around them, Ahsoka crossed her arms and hoped the trip would be quick.


	3. In Which Anakin is Abnormally Quiet

19 BBY, the Mid Rim

As Senator Organa's ship jumped out of hyperspace, Ahsoka jumped up from her seat next to Padme, and all but ran for the cockpit and its windows. The pilot looked around at her approach, and jerked his chin at the Corellian ship flying just off their stern.

"There." He said. "That's the ship the Jedi borrowed from the Senator." Ahsoka nodded, and closed her eyes, reaching out into the Force. She nearly cried with relief when she felt the presences of not only Obi-Wan, but also Master Yoda. The comm came to life with a mechanical chirp, then, and Obi- Wan appeared.

"Ahsoka? That is you, isn't it?" He sounded surprised, but definitely pleased.

"Obi-Wan!" she exclaimed. She felt a stab of guilt at addressing him so informally, but she told it to go frak itself . She was done being ashamed of her feelings toward anyone, especially the positive ones. "It's so good to see you!"

"And you, Ahsoka. You and the senators should get over here, though. We have much to discuss, and little time to do it in, I fear."

"Right." She said, nodding. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Ahsoka headed back to the lounge, where Padme was gathering their bags. She straightened up just as Ahsoka entered.

"Do we have permission to come aboard?" she asked, with the barest hint of a smile.

"Yes. Obi-Wan wants us and Senator Organa over there ASAP. Appaently we have "much to discuss." Ahsoka said the last few words in a fairly good (at least in her opinion) imitation of Master Kenobi's clipped tones. She was rewarded with another tiny smile from Padme.

As the shuttle docked with Senator Organa's Corvette, named _Jewel of Alderaan_ , he'd told them on the way, Ahsoka could not stay still. She paced back and forth across the ship's tiny floorspace until the gangway was locked in, at which point she took off across it, and ran smack into Obi-Wan on the other end.

"I see you're as impatient as ever." He said fondly.

"Sorry." muttered Ahsoka with a sheepish smile. Her face turned grim then, as she asked, "Master, what's happened? Is Anakin-" She couldn't feel him in the Force, but that only meant he wasn't on the ship. Her abilities had suffered, it seemed, in the past year.

"Anakin is-" Obi-Wan cut off as Padme stepped aboard, followed by Bail. "Padme, Senator. It is good to see you made it. I take it you were not followed?"

"No." said Bail. "We were very careful. Modifications were made to the ship's records. Our flight plan says we are in Alderaan."

"Good. Follow me. Ahsoka, all your questions _will_ be answered, I promise." He led them to a room, set up as a makeshift command center. Master Yoda stood there, a wide smile on his green visage.

"Good to see you, it is, young Ahsoka." He said.

"You too, Master." Ahsoka bowed out of habit.

"Right." Said Obi-Wan, placing his hands on the table. "Palpatine is a Sith Lord. He has styled himself Darth Sidious. It seems that Dooku was his apprentice. He has been fooling us for well over 10 years, waiting for the right moment."

"Why wait that long?" interjected Padme. "As you said, he's been Chancellor for years."

"Believe, we do, that waiting for young Skywalker, he was." Explained Yoda. "After all, extremely powerful, is he. And shown great potential for darkness, he has."

"But not succumbed to it, thank the Force." Said Obi-Wan. "When Sidious failed to turn Anakin, we believe he panicked. It seems he did not consider that Anakin would resist him. His plan is incomplete, but still devastating for all that."

"You keep talking about Anakin!" snapped Ahsoka. "Where is he?"

"He's here." Said Obi-Wan, sounding very tired. "I didn't want to tell you yet, because there are decisions which must be made now, and I need your full focus, Padme, and now Ahsoka as well."

"You have it." Said Padme shortly. "Let us begin."

"Right." Said Obi-Wan. "The Jedi Order has been almost completely wiped out. Sidious has declared himself Emperor of the Galactic Empire, and has been welcomed into the position. He has also announced the deaths of the last remaining Separatist leaders, and the end of the Clone Wars."

"We cannot allow this Empire to continue." Said Padme forcefully. "We must fight back."

"Agree, we do, Senator Amidala." Said Master Yoda "But long and difficult, this fight will be. Plunge the galaxy into war, it will. Prepared, are all of you, for this war?"

"Of course we are." Said Bail. "Freedom is worth fighting for. We cannot stand by while a Sith Lord rules the galaxy."

"In that case, we will need to get the resistance up and running as soon as possible." Said Obi-Wan. "Bail, I think you should spearhead that initiative. Alderaan is a powerful planet, and would be a good place to plan from. I plan to search out those Jedi who still live. If Master Yoda and I escaped our troopers, it is likely that some others did as well."

"What about me?" asked Padme.

"To give birth safely, your job right now is." Said Master Yoda. "Foresee an important role, I do, for your child."

Padme's eyes went wide.

"I-I didn't realize you knew of my condition." She said, voice shaking.

"Know, I did not. Suspect, I did. Of the Chosen One, your child is, hm?"

Padme nodded, speechless.

"Worry not, Senator. You will have plenty to do, after your child is born. Until then, your safety is of the utmost importance." Said Obi-Wan firmly.

"Now, speak with young Ahsoka, I would." Said Yoda, beckoning to her. Ahsoka followed him down the hallway. "Glad am I, that returned to us, you have." Ahsoka ducked her head.

"I had to know what happened, whether my friends were all right." She murmured.

"A kind and strong heart, you have. Still believe, do I, that make a great Jedi, you would. Changing, the Jedi Order is. A place you have in it, if you wish."

"I-I hadn't really thought about it. I left because I didn't feel like the Council believed in me. But now…"

"Indeed. Gone now, the Council is. And see now, do I, that serious mistakes, did it often make. Cost many lives, did those mistakes. Need to be made, changes do, if ever return, the Jedi are to."

"I think….I think I'd like to be part of those changes." Said Ahsoka. "But I was only a Padawan when I left, and now, my training's been neglected for a year." She said. "Not to mention, my master's apparently missing in action."

"Missing, young Skywalker is not. In fact, just through this door, is he." Master Yoda pushed the access button. With a hiss, the door slid open to reveal the ship's medical bay. Ahsoka's master was laid out on one of the med tables. His entire torso was swathed in bandages, with even more wrapping his right thigh. His face was white and far too still.

"No," breathed Ahsoka. Distantly, she could hear Obi-Wan's boots in the corridor, but she could not look up at his approach. All she could do was stare and listen to the rhythmic beeping that was the only indication that Anakin lived. "What-" her voice broke then, and she had to swallow hard before continuing. "What happened?"

It was Obi-Wan who answered.

"Anakin was one of the few Knights on Coruscant when Sidious ordered the clones to turn on us. He defended the Temple. The younglings. He was shot four times while protecting a group of them. By the time I got to the Temple and found them, the clones had left him for dead. He's been unconscious for two days now. His injuries….they're very serious. If we had a Bacta tank, he'd certainly be fine, but with only patches….It's up to him now." Ahsoka took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Did-did you find the younglings?"

"Yes." Said Obi-Wan. "They've been quartered in the back. I was actually hoping you might talk to them. They're still a bit shell-shocked, and I think a presence closer to their own age might be helpful." Spotting the stubborn set to Ahsoka's brows, he quickly added, "I'll let you know if anything changes. There's nothing you can do for him here."

He was right. Ahsoka nodded briefly, then turned and walked away, trying very hard not to feel as though she was abandoning her master, brother, and best friend. Again.


	4. Ahsoka Deals with Children

19 BBY, Aboard the _Jewel of Alderaan_

Ahsoka found the younglings easily enough, once she reached the back of the ship. Though their presences were weak, she could read their fear and grief like a beacon. All five were bunked together. When she walked into the cabin, they were sitting on the bunks, staring at the wall, the floor, and each other.

Ahsoka forced a smile, and spoke softly,

"Hey, guys. I'm Ahsoka Tano. I'm a Padawan Learner." Blast, but it felt good to say that again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the swell of pride that went with it.

One of the younglings, a Nautolan male who looked to be around 10, looked up at her.

"Ah-Ahsoka?" he asked. Ahsoka narrowed her eyes, then smiled again, a genuine one, this time.

"Zatt! You've grown! It's good to see you again." She said. The boy looked down again, but she saw a tiny smile curve his lips. Pleased, Ahsoka sat down on the edge of Zatt's bunk. "Now, then, I've already met Zatt, here, but what are the rest of your names?"

The little Twi-lek, who was maybe five, answered first.

"I'm Zila Makero." She said, fiddling nervously with one of her red lekku. The next child to speak was a human male, the oldest of the group by far.

"My name's Taryk Rovan. I'm _not_ a youngling." He said. He glared at Ahsoka as if daring her to disagree.

"Okay, Not a Youngling," She said. "You're a Padawan, then?"

"Yes. Or-I was. Master Fisto chose me a week ago. But, he's probably gone, right?"

"There's a good chance, yes." Said Ahsoka, not wanting to get the boy's hopes up. He nodded, and then dropped his gaze back to the bunk.

"I-I'm Mashan Armess." came the young Dathomiri boy's voice.

"And I'm Ko-Iri Sayanti." Said the last youngling, a human female with red hair.

"It's nice to meet you all." Said Ahsoka softly.

"You said you were a Padawan." Said Ko-Iri, looking up at Ahsoka. "Who's your master?"

Zatt elbowed her in the side.

"Ko-Iri, that's not a nice question right now!" The girl's face fell, and she opened her mouth, presumably to apologize, but Ahsoka cut her off.

"It's alright, Zatt, I don't mind. Master Skywalker trains me." At this, all five pairs of eyes snapped to her, wide with wonder.

"H-He saved us." Whispered Mashan.

"Mashan and I were practicing meditation." Said Ko-Iri. "We didn't hear the cl-the clones. If he hadn't come in-" The girl's voice choked off. Ahsoka reached out and put an arm around her small shoulders.

"Shhh, shh, it's alright now. You're all safe, that's what matters." She murmured. "Hey, you guys must be hungry, right? I bet we can scare up some rations if we all work together, huh?" There were hesitant nods all around.

The ship was mostly quiet. Ahsoka and the younglings made it to the ship's cantina without incident. Once there, though, Ahsoka immediately spotted Padme sitting at a table, a cup of tea in front of her. Her eyes were red from crying. Ahsoka gave Zila a gentle nudge.

"How about you guys go grab some food? I'll go sit down and wait for you." The children headed off in the direction of the rations, and Ahsoka sat down across from her master's wife.

"I thought you'd be down there." She said, quietly.

"I was. I-I couldn't stay. He's too still." Padme's voice was ragged and watery. "Ahsoka, what if he-"

"No. You and I both know Anakin's way too stubborn for that. Besides, he has too much to live for." Ahsoka reached over and took the other woman's hand. "He'll be back before you know it. I know what you mean, though. Anakin never stops moving. I'm not even sure he sleeps." She quipped, grinning fondly. "Oh, here are my new friends, Padme. You should meet them!" She grinned again. "Aren't they just adorable" she added in an extremely loud whisper.

"Hey!" yelled Taryk. "We are NOT cute! We're Jedi!"

Even Padme smiled at that, though her lips trembled.

Ahsoka's days passed quickly. She'd woken up the next morning to find Master Yoda and Senator Organa gone. The Senator had gone to Alderaan, to begin assembling the framework for the resistance movement, dubbed the Rebel Alliance by Bail and Obi-Wan. Master Yoda, on the other hand, had gone into hiding. According to Obi-Wan, it was dangerously conspicuous to have three Jedi Knights in one place, even all the way out in the Mid Rim.

Ahsoka split her time between the younglings, Obi-Wan, and Anakin. She helped the children practice meditation and lightsaber skills, using her own blade, along with Taryk's and Zatt's, in lieu of the Temple training sabers. With Master Kenobi, her job was mostly to try and boost their comm signals out to the far flung Outer Rim worlds where Jedi Generals had been stationed prior to Sidious' betrayal. Obi-Wan was hopeful that they'd be able to contact survivors. Anakin hadn't woken up. She spent a few minutes of her day in the med bay, telling him about this and that, and hoping to Force he could hear her. Three days after arriving on the _Jewel of Alderaan,_ Ahsoka was sitting with Zila while the little Twi'lek practiced pulling her boots from across the room with the Force, when Obi-Wan opened the door, and said,

"Padme's gone into labor."


	5. 10 Things Anakin Skywalker Hates

19 BBY, The Jedi Temple

Anakin Skywalker was not a particularly patient being. In fact, it had often been said (mostly by Obi-Wan) that there were few creatures in the galaxy less patient than he was. As such, Anakin found it enormously difficult to wait (around a Jedi Council Chamber, for example) while other beings were off doing Important Things (like arresting the Chancellor of the galactic Republic for being a Sith Lord. You know. For example.). Anakin's mind was racing off in a thousand different directions. He was angry as hell, for one thing. To think that Palpatine, his mentor, a man he'd trusted with all sorts of personal shit, was a Sith Lord? He was also immensely worried. He wasn't sure where the worry was coming from, either, which was doubly worrying. On the surface, Mace Windu and three other Council members should be able to take one old man, Evil Space Wizard powers aside. However, Something (Anakin was becoming more and more sure it was the Force) was telling him he should be either getting the hell off of Coruscant, or going after Palpatine himself.

He felt it, when Mace died.

He made it about two steps toward the chamber door before it opened, and Kit Fisto lurched through it, clutching his head. Anakin shot forward to take the Nautolan's arm as he wobbled.

"They're dead. They're all dead. He-he was too strong-"

"Blast it!" growled Anakin. "We need to-"

"I'm going to find Master Yoda." Said Fisto, gripping Anakin's forearm. "You have to stay here, and defend the Temple. Now that he's been exposed, he will have to make a move, and I fear what will come next. You're one of the best Knights in the Order, Skywalker. I am entrusting its future to you. Do you understand?" Anakin's brows came down.

"The younglings."

"Yes. They are all but defenseless. You must protect them. Get them away from here. Quickly." Master Fisto drew himself up and looked Anakin in the eye. "May the Force be with you, Skywalker."

"And with you." He replied automatically.

The blasterfire started three seconds later. Anakin closed his eyes, and relaxed. This, after all, he understood. This wasn't betrayal and wondering if he was wrong or right, if the Council trusted him, if Palpatine might be right about them. This was simple. Defend the children from those who would harm them.

Anakin fought at the Temple's steps for what was at once hours and seconds before he was forced back into the Temple itself. There were clone troopers everywhere. Anakin resolutely refused to think about Rex, or his 501st.

He felt the fear from all the way down the corridor. Five bright, pulsing lights in the Force. Two of them had lightsabers, so they and he guarded the three who were too young.

They made it to Anakin's favorite tunnel system, the one that let out in the Middle Rung. The entrance was blocked. The oldest child glared when he ordered them to hide, but he did it, the little Twi'lek clinging to his neck.

Anakin closed his eyes again. He raised his lightsaber in the Djem So defensive position, and waited for the clones.

Ten years later, when his daughter asked about it, Anakin could not tell her much about that fight. IT had gone by in a haze of blaster bolts and shouting. He did not even remember feeling to blaster bolt that went through his thigh, nor the two to his stomach. He did remember the one that burned through his chest though, because it was only after that one that he fell. He also remembered, although he did not mention it to Leia, the clones' voices.

"He'll be dead in minutes, and we have other areas to clear. Let's go."

The oldest boy crept out as soon as they were gone, lightsaber in one hand, and the Twi'lek girl in the other.

"Master Skywalker?"

His head was swimming. He couldn't see. He could, however, hear boots in the corridor. _Force forgive me, I tried,_ he thought, and then the darkness took him.

19 BBY, Aboard the _Jewel of Alderaan_

The first thing he realized was that he was breathing, which seemed odd, because he could have sworn that blaster bolt had gone through a lung. The next thing he realized was that he couldn't be dead, because being dead absolutely could not hurt so much. His entire torso was on fire, and every breath only increased the temperature. Then, he heard the unmistakable sound of a crying infant, which was also odd, because the Temple didn't take infants.

With enormous effort, he cracked one eye open.

It wasn't the Temple Medical bay, nor yet any med bay on a military transport. The light wasn't harsh enough. There were definitely babies crying in his immediate vicinity too, but the mere thought of moving his head to look was nauseating.

"Anakin?"

He knew that voice too, but it wasn't right either, she wasn't there. She couldn't be. She was gone, right?

"Master!" Evidently she was there. Briefly, Anakin wondered if he'd gone back in time. That would explain at least some of the many confusing things about his situation. Ahsoka's voice came again, from right next to him this time.

"Master, can you hear me?" He went for a nod, not trusting himself to speak. Annoyingly, though, he could only manage to move his chin about half an inch before his injuries made their protest known, and his head started swimming again. There were more noises, and then Ahsoka's face appeared above his, her blue eyes wide and excited.

"Hey, Master," she said, smiling at him. "It's good to see your eyes again."

"My thoughts exactly." That was Obi-Wan, no doubt.

Steeling himself, Anakin began to sit up, only to stop about two inches off the table.

"Kriffing Force" he hissed (or would have, if he'd had the strength. As it was, his noise was more of a strangled whimper than an expletive)

"Take it easy, Master." Said Ahsoka. "You're pretty badly injured."

"Gee, thanks, Snips." He croaked. "I hadn't noticed."

Her smile was brighter than the Tatooine suns.

"What-" He coughed, winced and went on. "What happened? The younglings-"

"They're safe." Obi-Wan assured him. "I found you and the younglings before the clones managed to secure the entire Temple. With the help of a few friends, we escaped to the Mid Rim. You've been dead to the world for five days." Anakin clenched his jaw. "We were worried about you." Added Obi-Wan dryly."

"Oh, and Master?" Ahsoka again. "As of two hours ago, you're a father."

Once again, Anakin made to get up, only to drop back to the table in an exact repeat of his first attempt.

He settled for opening his eyes a little wider and croaking, "What?"

"Padme gave birth." Explained Ahsoka. "Two hours ago. You have twins, a girl and a boy. Padme named them Luke and Leia. Look." Obi-Wan moved into Anakin's line of sight then, cradling two little bundles in his arms.

"Well." He muttered. "That explains why-Argh-why we disagreed on the gender." Ahsoka giggled. "Padme. Is-is she-"

"Padme's fine, Anakin." Said Obi-Wan with a reassuring smile. "She's asleep. She's had a bit of a rough day, as I'm sure you can imagine." Anakin grinned (at least, he hoped it was a grin). He was completely exhausted.

"You should sleep, Master." Said Ahsoka. "I promise, we'll all be here when you wake up."

Padme was wakened by her daughter's wails. Dragging her eyes open, she sat up. Ahsoka handed Leia to her. Luke was blinking confusedly around from Ahsoka's other arm.

"He was asleep, before she started crying." She explained, as Padme tugged her robe aside to feed Leia.

"Yeah,"came a voice from her right "I think he's gonna be the quiet one." Padme snapped her head around so fast it made her temples throb. Her husband's voice was weak and hoarse. It was also the most beautiful thing she'd ever heard.

"Ani? Oh, Gods, Anakin, I'm so glad you're awake!" Someone had propped him up on the wall of the medbay, she noted abstractedly, and from the conspicuously deactivated med droid, she suspected he wasn't supposed to be sitting up yet. The corner of his mouth turned up in a tired, but definitely happy smile. She looked at him for a long moment, drinking in the sight of his blue eyes and tousled hair. His cheeks were still too white and every line in his body was tight with pain, but he was awake, and that was enough. She reached out, and found that the tables were just close enough that she could take his hand. His grip was as strong as ever, which was one thing that could be said for mechanical hands, she supposed.

Leia fell asleep in Padme's arms after she finished eating. After a moment, Ahsoka stood and handed Luke to her as well, before slipping out to give them privacy.

"I-I was so worried about you. I don't know what I'd do if you-" She started, but her voice broke before she could get the rest of that horrible thought out.

"Hey, Love, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere, I promise." He said softly, looking right at her. "We got through the past week, we're gonna be okay."

"Shouldn't I be the one reassuring you?" she asked, with a watery laugh.

"I've always been the optimist in this relationship, my love. No reason to change it now." He answered. "I just want to hold them." He murmured, looking down at the twins.

"Did Ahsoka veto that?" asked Padme. She was fast recovering her usual teasing nature, now that her world had stopped ripping itself apart.

"Yeah." He said. "Not that I blame her. I'm not even up to sitting by myself, let alone holding infants." He flashed her a wry grin. "So, we're in hiding, right? I take it the Clone Wars have ended?"

"Yes. According to our esteemed Emperor, the only reason it went on so long was because the 'traitorous Jedi Order' was purposely elongating the conflict for its own gain."

Anakin hissed through his teeth in anger.

"Kriffing Sith." Padme rolled her eyes.

"You're going to teach them all kinds of bad habits, aren't you?" she said, giving him a reproving look. "Anyway, Palpatine declared himself Emperor and renamed the Republic and the Galactic Empire. The Senate won't be back in session for six months, to "give us all time to adjust to the change", which I assume means time for him to hunt down all the remaining Jedi."

"We're going to fight, right?"

"Of course we are. Bail Organa is organizing a rebellion as we speak, although it will likely be several years before it's up and running. In the meantime, you'll be sabotaging the Empire any way you can, while the senators on our side keep an eye on things in the government."

"Sounds good to me." Said Anakin. Despite his obvious exhaustion, her husband's eyes were bright with purpose and determination.

Padme smiled. She had her family back.


	6. 501st Castoffs

19 BBY, The Outer Rim

"And you're sure it came from Felucia?" asked Ahsoka.

"Yes." answered Obi-Wan, "Absolutely sure. Aayla Secura was in charge there, I believe."

"I remember Master Secura." said Ahsoka, "She was always kind to me. If there's a chance she's alive-"

"We have to check it out." interjected Anakin from where he was sitting, leaning back against the wall.

They were gathered in the med-bay, since Anakin wasn't yet healed enough to move around. 10 minutes ago, Obi-Wan had pulled Ahsoka out of meditation practice with Mashan and Ko-Iri with urgent news from his efforts to locate surviving Jedi. He had picked up a weak distress signal using Jedi codes from the Felucia system. In the 10 days since the end of the Republic (Anakin had taken to calling it E-Day), this signal was the only one they'd come across.

"How are we going to mount a rescue operation?" asked Ahsoka. "This ship is way too big to land undetected, especially on a rural world like Felucia."

"But," said Anakin, "I'd be willing to bet my left hand that there's no blockade over Felucia. Palpatine will have pulled back all the cruisers to Coruscant. He's likely only left a few squads on the ground to look for Aayla. She must have a comm, if she sent a distress signal over Order frequencies. If we could get a message down to her-"

"Yeah!" Ahsoka nodded eagerly. "With the intel she has on the surface, we could probably figure out a way to get her off-planet."

"It's a daring plan." mused Obi-Wan, "But it could work. I'll let out pilot know the new coordinates then. We should be there in about an hour."

Anakin was right. As the ship jumped out of hyperspace in Felucia's orbit, only the stars were there to greet them. Their comm crackled to life, and Obi-Wan put in the distress frequency that had been used to contact them. After a moment, a figure appeared. His armor was that of a clone captain's, and the markings on his helmet sent a cold thrill through Ahsoka's veins.

"General Kenobi?! You're alive? We heard you were executed on Utapau more than a week ago!" CT-7567, better known as Captain Rex, twisted his helmet off. He turned off screen and shouted, "Kix, Jesse, you gotta come see this!" After a brief moment, two more clones in blue streaked armor appeared in the hologram.

"General?!" one exclaimed, twisting off his helmet to reveal his tattooed face. "And-Commander?"

"Jesse?" Ahsoka's frowned. " And Rex! I thought the clones had betrayed the Jedi." she said, trying very hard to keep her voice from shaking. The captain's face fell at this, and Ahsoka's stomach dropped. Jesse spoke, as Rex looked pointedly at the ground.

"They did. The Chancellor issued Order 66 10 days ago, which stated that the Jedi officers are working against the Republic, and are to be executed immediately." Jesse's gaze found the floor, fingers clenching and unclenching.

"Fives." said Rex. "After what happened, I couldn't get it out of my head. I had nightmares and headaches, and one day dirtside on Coruscant, just before we shipped out for Felucia, I just snapped. Went to a civvie medic and had her take the chip out. I couldn't do it anymore. Turns out Fives was right. When they gave the order, it-it didn't affect me."

"He shot me in the leg." said Jesse softly. "The pain drowned out the voices."

Beside him, Kix nodded.

"Yeah. They cracked me over the head with Rex's deeces." The medic rubbed the back of his neck.

"They were all I could get to before- before the General-" Rex broke off, looking stricken.

Ahsoka clenched her fists.

"They killed her." She said. It wasn't a question. She'd known ever since he's appeared in the holo. Rex nodded all the same.

"Where are you?" asked Obi-Wan. "Not with the rest, I assume?"

"No." said Rex. His mouth twisted into a bitter grimace. "Apparently failing to shoot one's Jedi General is considered treason nowadays."

"We're hiding out in the foothills." said Kix. "If-I mean, if you can forgive-"

"Of course." said Obi-Wan quietly. "Though, I feel compelled to ask…"

"They're gone." answered Kix shortly. "I pulled Jesse's, and walked the Captain through pulling mine."

"Well, then." Obi-Wan nodded slowly. "If you can get a ship up here, you'd be a welcome addition to our little refugee group."

"Hm," growled Jesse. "I think there are a couple of transports still at base."

"We'll sneak back after dark and steal one." said Rex. "I'll comm you when we're off-world." The clone trooper locked eyes with Obi-Wan for the first time since the transmission had gone live. "Thank you, General." he murmured.

The hologram blinked out of existence. Ahsoka sank slowly to the floor, all the strength gone from her. Distantly, she felt Master Obi-Wan's hand on her shoulder.

None of them spoke, but their grief ran between them in the Force.

Approximately six hours later, 2300 hours local time

Anakin had decided that repeatedly twitching his mechanical fingers back and forth was a poor substitute for the nervous pacing he usually employed while people he cared about were fighting for their lives and he was not. However, anything was better than sitting still (If he couldn't get up and walk around soon, he wasn't going to be responsible for his actions.) It hadn't been so bad early on. He'd discovered it was difficult to focus on worries when his newborn twins were gurgling and smiling up at him. They'd gone to sleep hours ago though, and Padme had soon followed suit. She had wanted to stay and wait with them for the clones' transmission, but she was still recovering from Luke and Leia's birth a few days before, and all three Jedi had told her in no uncertain terms that the best thing she could do was rest up.

From the pointed glances Ahsoka had been shooting at him for the past hour and a half, Anakin surmised that she thought he should be asleep as well, but that was simply Not Going to Happen, not until he'd seen Rex in the flesh. (Or at least until the man was aboard a ship and headed their way: If he was being honest, he was completely exhausted.) Across the room, Obi-Wan was settled serenely in a chair, eyes closed. Not for the first time, Anakin envied his master's ability to meditate _literally_ anywhere. (His successful meditation session aboard a gunship as they made a particularly long descent into the hot zone on Vesla was Anakin's personal favorite.) As he flexed the durasteel fingers of his right hand for the 400th time, he looked over at Ahsoka. She, too, was attempting to meditate, although, judging from the way the muscle around her left eye kept twitching, it wasn't going well.

He sympathized. He'd tried earlier to slip into the Force, but his emotions weren't cooperating with his attempts to quiet them. Admittedly, they hadn't had much hope of the signal actually coming from Aayla, but it hurt to have even that small flame extinguished. On the other hand, Anakin was immensely relieved that his second-in-command wasn't hell-bent on murdering everyone else he'd ever cared about, including himself. He'd been stubbornly refusing to think about Rex at all since the order had gone out. After all, Cody had turned on Obi-Wan without a second thought. From what Rex had said, it didn't seem like they had much of a choice.

A sharp spike of grief suddenly shot through his bond with Ahsoka, and she swiped a hand across her eyes before slumping back against the wall.

She had changed a good bit in the year since he'd last seen her. Her montrals reached her ribcage now, and her horns were a few inches taller than they had been. There was also a new hardness to her eyes, which he imagined came from living in the Corellian underworld for a year. Her presence in the Force was different, too. The ocean of self-doubt that had swirled around her a year ago was gone. She seemed somehow calmer, more centered, although no less snippy. She was prone to loud outbursts of profanity now, too, which amused Anakin to no end, though he did his best not to show it. All in all, his little apprentice had grown up. He couldn't stop a proud smile from creeping across his face, despite the grim news they'd just heard. Anakin was clinging to small bright spots in this new Galaxy.

At that precise moment, Obi-Wan's comm went off. Caught up in thought, Anakin started, and then let out a string of Huttese curses as his injuries flared up in protest. Ahsoka shot him a worried glance, then jumped up from her seat against the wall, and started towards Obi-Wan as Rex appeared, glowing soft blue and strapped into a cockpit seat.

"We did it. We're leaving the atmosphere now. What's your position? We'll come around to meet you."

Obi-Wan rattled off their coordinates.

"Any trouble getting off world?" asked Ahsoka, leaning over Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Nothing we couldn't handle, Commander." That was Kix, from out of the hologram's field. "Jesse says hello." he added. "He's on the gun, in case we were followed" Ahsoka nodded.

"See you soon." she said. Rex locked eyes with her for a second, then nodded, and shut the transmission down.

Anakin was a little nervous about seeing the men face to face, if he was being honest. He had trusted his men with his life, before all of this shavit. Fives, as it turned out, had not been insane. Anakin crushed the sharp pulse of _angerguiltregret_ that burned through him at the thought of the ARC-trooper. Just another being he'd failed.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was nervous, as the clones were all looking decidedly fidgety as they stepped aboard the Jewel of Alderaan. Ahsoka's face was closed off, eyes hard. She'd admired Aayla, Anakin remembered. However, when Rex stopped a few feet in front of her, Ahsoka stared for a long moment, then, moving slowly, she closed the distance between them and slipped her arms around the clone Captain.

"Commander, I-" he said, stiffening in her embrace.

"Hush, Rexer." murmured Ahsoka. "This isn't your fault."

The trooper clenched his jaw, and then relaxed, finally returning Ahsoka's hug.

Kix and Jesse exchanged a short glance, then turned to Obi-Wan. Rex, releasing Ahsoka, did the same.

"So, General," said Kix. "What's the plan?"


	7. End of an Era

_19 BBY, Somewhere in the Outer Rim_

"Sithspit!"

Ahsoka fell hard onto her rear, and before she could get her saber up, a bright blue blade was a quarter of an inch from her throat.

"Sithspit." She repeated, with a sigh. It was the third time she'd lost so far this morning. Given that she'd only fought three spars, she was a tad frustrated. At least her opponent this week wouldn't admonish her for the language.

Anakin deactivated his lightsaber and offered her a hand. She took it, and allowed him to pull her to her feet with a sigh.

"Wizard spar!" exclaimed Taryk, from where he was sitting against the wall.

"I wanna go next!" called Ko-Iri, who'd been watching with wide eyes. Ahsoka summoned a smile, and beckoned to the girl.

"Come on then. Show me what you've got!"

Two hours later, as they walked to dinner, her master raised an eybrow at her. "What's the matter, Snips? You lasted much longer that time."

"Yeah, I guess." she muttered.

"Hey," he said, gently. "It's not all gonna come back just like that. You're doing really well."

Ahsoka summoned up a smile.

"I just feel like I should be doing better than this after six weeks of training, especially since I already know this stuff. I just-I didn't think it'd be so hard."

"You are getting better though. You cleared my head by a good three feet in that last round. I think your grasp on the Force is as strong as ever. It's just a matter of remembering to use it when you're thinking about other things, instead of losing the big picture in the details."

"You're one to talk about that." said Ahsoka with a grin and an elbow in his ribs. Anakin smiled.

"Do as I say, not as I do." he said, waving a hand. "Do as Obi-Wan does." Ahsoka laughed, despite herself, and found her mood lifted considerably.

The pair of them walked along the ship to the main dining room, which had been become their communal area over the past six weeks. Padme was there now, a sleeping baby Luke in her arms and his twin in the little supply crate that Ahsoka and the younglings had turned into a cradle of sorts. Anakin made a beeline for his wife and son, bending to drop kisses on both Padme and Luke's foreheads. The young woman swatted his arm with a command to go take a shower, but made no move to stop him as he dropped gracefully onto the sofa next to her.

Over the past six weeks, Ahsoka had decided that her master and Padme were adorable. And Force knew, the twins were possibly the cutest things in the Galaxy, although that didn't stop her from occasionally wanting to rip her own montrals off in order to have some respite from their crying. (Who knew such small beings could have such impressive lungs?) All the same, Ahsoka still found domestic scenes like the one currently going on in front of her a little strange. None of her experiences in the Temple, on the front lines, or on Corellia had really given her much help in dealing with either domesticity or marital bliss. After all, the Jedi Order did not hold with romantic relationships, and beings in Ahsoka's line of work outside the Order did not often have families either. The only knowledge Ahsoka had of romance was the fluttery feeling that had often accompanied her dealings with Lux Bonteri, and that, she knew, was less romance than it was simple biology. Besides, ever since Steela, her conversations with Lux had been strained at best.

No, when Ahsoka thought of love, she thought of dry humor with a Coruscanti accent, blue lightsabers and a Force signature that was brighter than any sun she'd ever seen. (She would face Moraband itself for the two of them.) Love was soft brown eyes and sisterly teasing. More recently, love was squishy faces and twin coos of fascination with her montrals.

After leaving the Order, Ahsoka had gone to Shili, wondering if she had a family.

She didn't.

Her people had welcomed her, of course, but she hadn't stayed long, only a month. However, her time there had taught her one important thing: that she already had a family. She had two brothers and a sister; for all that they were Jedi or Senators, or way, way older than her. And she loved them, the Jedi Code be damned. And, most importantly, they'd believed her. They'd trusted her.

It had been the first step towards trusting herself again. Luckily, Corellia offered plenty of opportunities for learning how to rely on oneself.

"Cute, aren't they?" came a quiet voice behind her. Rex leaned one shoulder against the doorframe and pointed with his chin at the little family.

"Yeah." said Ahsoka quietly. "They are."

Love was also blue Jaig Eyes and "I've got your six, Commander."

20 BBY, The Outer Rim

"I've been thinking," said Obi-Wan. The tone of his voice caused Anakin to look up sharply from where he'd been levitating little bits of dismantled droid for Leia to bat at.

"Thinking about what?" asked Padme sleepily. She'd woken up from a nap barely five minutes ago.

Whatever it was, it was bad, because Obi-Wan was-nervous? No, more wary. Never a good sign. Anakin shot worriedquestion through their bond.

"Luke and Leia." explained the Jedi. "I think they will have to be separated." Padme jumped immediately to her feet, sleepiness forgotten.

"No! Absolutely not! My children will grow up with families. Anything less would be unfair to them!" Gods, she was pretty when she was angry. Any other time, he'd have been up and shouting as well, but in this case-

"Padme," he said softly, standing and taking her hands. "He's right. They-they're both strong in the Force, and they already have the beginnings of a bond."

"I-I don't understand." Said Padme, brown eyes boring into him. "What does that mean?"

"It means they're connected." he explained quietly. "If Luke and Leia are raised together, their bond will only get stronger, which would be good, if we weren't being hunted by a Sith Lord. As they get older, this bond will be like a beacon, and sooner or later, the Emperor will sense it. Hells, every Force-sensitive in the galaxy will." He squeezed her hand. "The only way we can stop that from happening is if we…sever the bond. I know it's not what we wanted, Love, but It's the only way to make sure Luke and Leia will be safe from the Empire."

Padme's expression nearly broke him. The anger had drained from her face, leaving only a desperate sort of fear behind. She kept staring at him, brown eyes filling with unshed tears. Anakin went to pull her into his chest, but she stepped back, though she didn't pull her hands away.

And then, she took a deep, shuddering breath, drew herself up, and lifted her chin, eyes suddenly full of resolve. Still staring into his soul, it seemed, she said,

"For the safety of our children." Then, and only then did she look away from his face and back to Obi-Wan. "For my children, and for the galaxy, I will do this."

"It will not be forever." said Obi-Wan, with conviction. "When they are older, this little Rebellion of ours will be more organized, and the twins will be old enough to learn mental shielding. Your family will be together again, this I promise you both."

Later, as she was pulling her hair out of its knot before bed, she asked,

"Where will you go?" he heard the unspoken question as well. Which one?

"I'll take Leia to-to Tatooine." He'd thought about nearly all day, trying to come up with an alternative, any alternative.

"Tatooine? Ani, you hate Tatooine."

"I know." He snapped. Fierfek, that had been harsh. He took a deep breath and continued, in a softer tone, "And, more importantly, Pal- the Emperor knows that, too. If it wasn't for Leia, I wouldn't be going. He doesn't know about her, so there's nothing to make him even think I'd go to Tatooine."

"Alright." She calmly met his eyes. "I'm going to take Luke and go to Coruscant." He opened his mouth to protest, and she cut him off before he could get out the second syllable. "Ani, I have to. You said yourself, he didn't know about my pregnancy. If I don't come back, he will wonder why. I cannot afford to have him wondering about me, not when he knows we were close. If I come back, it will reassure him that I have no ties to the Jedi, that I know nothing of the survivors."

"What about Luke? How are you gonna explain him?" Anakin was desperate to change her mind, though, deep down, he already knew he wouldn't. Three years of marriage had taught him that much, at least. Padme was an unstoppable force.

"His father was a pilot who died in the Clone Wars. That's what I'll tell everyone. Only Bail will know the truth. It's a safe cover, as it's basically true."

"I don't like it." He sounded like a child, and he knew it.

"I know you don't." Her eyes went steely. "Trust me, the thought of looking at that man again is repulsive to me, as well. But, if I must tear my family apart to keep it safe, then I will do everything in my power to make sure our sacrifice is not made in vain. I have to go, Anakin."

Arms crossed, he nodded.

Padme's hands went to the laces of her gown.

"Come here, my love." She said softly. "If I have to say goodbye to you, I intend to at least make you remember me in the months to come."

The next afternoon, they went, their little family from the past six months splintering off into the Galaxy. Ahsoka, Padawan braid newly removed, was going to the Outer Rim with Rex, Jesse and Kix. Obi-Wan and Taryk were bound for the Core, to lie low. The younger children were all traveling Dagobah, and Master Yoda. And Padme, Padme was going to Naboo, and then to Coruscant, leaving Anakin with a tiny bundle of cloth and brown hair, and his memories. Not forever, he thought fiercely, drinking in the sight of her, dark hair unbound and falling in her face, bright brown eyes, brimming with tears as she kissed Leia goodbye. She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He would not see her again for ten years.


	8. A Little Suspense for the Morning

Author's Note: Hello friends! This is PART TWO of the How Ahsoka Tano sort of Saved the Galaxy AU. I'm not creating a new fic for it because is strange and won't let me put it under a series or anything, so it's all going to be one huge fic, because it'll be easier for you all to find that way! Part II is a series of interconnected one-shots that are not at all in chronological order, much like the Clone Wars TV show. It covers a period of time between the end of 'I Know' and 10 BBY, which is between 8 and 9 years afterward. The chapters will all be dated, and the scenes within chapters will change points of view, but not time periods. Enjoy!

* * *

10 BBY, Mos Eisley, Tatooine

As the moisture farmers liked to say, "If there's a bright center to the universe, this is the planet farthest from."

It was an established galactic fact that Tatooine was the least civilized world in the Galaxy. However, if you were to ask its residents, you'd probably hear that the desert world had a certain charm.

For one thing, the Imperial Navy stayed mostly away from it. There was nothing on Tatooine worth antagonizing its Hutt lords over, after all. Of course, the lack of Imperial presence, coupled with the presence of the Hutts meant Tatooine was largely populated by the scum of the Galaxy, but there you were.

However, this heavy criminal presence (and utter lack of restriction on them) meant that anyone who managed to ply an honest trade on Tatooine was good at what they did.

If they weren't, they died.

Hidden amongst bounty hunters, slaves, Hutts, and guns-for-hire were the Galaxy's best pilots and mechanics. And there was always plenty of work for them, for while Tatooine escaped the attention of the Empire, it was a positive beacon for smugglers and those whose careers necessitated frequent use of pilots and mechanics.

Every being in Mos Eisley Spaceport would agree, if asked nicely, and in a good mood, that the best place in the city to get one's ship (or anything else, really) fixed was Gannara's garage, on the East side of the city. Gannara himself, a crochety old Askajian with a shrewd mind for business, was not much of a mechanic, but stang, did he know how to sniff them out!

For droids, there was little better than Jani, whose deft touch had pulled her out of slavery in Mos Espa.

The best vaporator mechanic in the Galaxy (according to Tatooine's moisture farmers) was undoubtedly Borun Telfar, once you got past his stutter.

And if you asked for help with an engine, didn't matter what kind or how old, everyone in Mos Eisley would direct you to Gannara's garage and tell you to ask for Kin Starseeker, because he was so good with them that half of Mos Eisley thought he must be able to actually communicate with the machinery, like an astromech.

And so, when Alina Karalen's navicomputer fritzed out and forced her to land on Tatooine to get repairs done, she found herself outside Gannara's garage.

Silently cursing her utterly rotten luck, Alina tugged her hood down further against the harsh sunlight. She was a bounty hunter, and therefore had been to Tatooine before, but, as far as galactic cesspools went, she preferred Nal Hutta. At least on the swamp world, there was no dust.

At least the garage had been easy to find, what with its huge, if a little faded, sign. Alina flipped her hood back and stepped into the big garage, squinting in the sudden shade. Had this been a halfway civilized place, she'd have murmured polite hellos at the other patrons, but this was Taooine, and so she just palmed the hilt of her knife and walked past them.

From the back office came an Askajian, presumably the owner.

"Hello, hello!" he called. "What can we be doing for you today?" Alina crossed her arms.

"I've got a damaged starship. I wanna be done quickly, and no questions asked." She patted her pocket, hard enough to make her credits jangle. This being the standard way to commission work done in the Outer Rim, no one looked twice at her.

"Of course!" said the Askajian, beaming. "Oi!" he shouted over his shoulder, "Kin, I've got one for ya!"

Following his line of sight, Alina watched the human male stand and walk over, automatically sizing him up. He was tall, for a human, and muscular. He went armed, too, blasters on each hip. Though his expression was polite, she saw the same hard steel in his blue eyes that often accompanied war veterans. Clone Wars, likely, or maybe a planetary civil war. Seeing her appraising look, he cocked one eyebrow.

"What can I do for you?"

"My navicomputer went on the fritz. Went all staticky and kept trying to calculate four routes at once. I had to put my ship down here on the way to do a job, so I'd like to get back underway as soon as possible. Time is credits, after all." She finished with a grin. His face stayed in a polite mask.

"Alright." He looked back at the Askajian, who nodded, then turned back toward what must be his workstation, little more than a clear bit of floor and a workbench, which was currently occupied by a small girl, dark hair in braids.

"Leia, go on and see if Mirilba needs help with her cooking, alright? I'll be back later." The girl nodded, flashed the mechanic -Kin- a gap-toothed grin, and took off, dodging around equipment and customers alike. Alina couldn't help but watch the girl go. Children weren't exactly rare on Tatooine, but clean, well fed kids were thin on the ground throughout the Outer Rim, especially in cities. Kin turned his blue gaze back to her, eyes cool, daring her to ask.

Alina knew better.

"Come on, then. I'll take you to my ship."

"Stang. What did you _do_ to this thing?" Kin asked, staring at the ship. Alina spun and glared at him for a second, but relented and shrugged. It was a fair question. Her ship, _Violet Sunrise_ , was mostly salvaged, and it was not, by any definition, pretty.

"To be honest, I'm not sure. When I bought her, she was about to be sold for scrap. All I could afford, you know? I took her to a guy back home, and he said he'd fix her up, but, apparently he was lying?"

Kin raised an eyebrow at her.

"You didn't ask him what he did?"

"I did, but I didn't really understand most of the words he used. I'm a bounty hunter, not an engineer."

"Yeah, I can see that." Kin rolled his eyes. "How long have you been flying this monster?"

"About five years." This time, both eyebrows went up, pulling at the scar on his face.

"And it hasn't killed you yet? Stang. You're the luckiest Jango Jumper in the Galaxy, then."  
Kin shrugged, and pulled his bag from his shoulder. "Right. I'm assuming you've at least got schematics. I need 'em if I'm gonna fix this."

Alina nodded.

"I'll put them on a chip for you."

When she came back, schematics in hand, Kin was eyeing the starboard engine.

"This a Sienar?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, yeah it is. Why, is it seconds away from blowing up on me?" she asked, with a wry grin. To her surprise, the mechanic's mouth quirked up as well.

Well, what did you know. Not completely emotionless, then.

"Nah. I just haven't seen one in a while, that's all. Most of the sleemo out here can't afford 'em."

He was right. Sienar engines were rare in the Outer Rim. Alina's had come from a salvage op on a crashed GAR transport a few years before. She smirked.

"Well, like you said, lucky Jango Jumper here. Now, can we get started? I got a job to finish."  
Kin nodded, grabbed his kit, and followed her up to the cockpit.

Kin Starseeker had never seen a navicomputer behave like this. Then again, he'd never seen a ship that looked like it had been soldered together from the remains of a Separatist battle group, either. Fortunately, this particular navicomputer wasn't damaged, which probably just meant one of the wires had come loose. Behind him, the Tarrelian woman had started scuffing her boot back and forth across the cockpit floor, clearly anxious about her ship. Kin sympathized, but the noise was driving him insane. He was about to turn and ask her to wait outside when a sudden wave of foreboding crashed over him.

A few seconds later came the distinctive scream of a TIE rocketing over Mos Eisley. His mechanical hand clenched, hard enough to make the durasteel joints groan, but he kept his face blank. His client was less opaque.

"Kriff!" she breathed. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah," he said, "It's probably nothing." Which was complete bantha-shit. There were only two reasons a TIE would be in Tatooine's atmosphere: either its transport was damaged, or the Imps were looking for someone. And there was only one that would explain his intense and involuntary urge to jump out of his own skin.

Kin's retirement, it seemed, was over.

"You got that computer working?" asked the Tarrelian. "I don't wanna stick around for whatever's about to go down here."

No kidding.

"Yeah, I just gotta connect this." The wire sparked as he pushed it back into its socket, burning hot against his gloved fingertips. The navicomputer chirped and came back into focus. "You're good to go." He replaced the panels covering the wiring, then straightened, rolling his shoulders. She held out the credits, but he didn't take them, speaking instead.

"I've got a real funny feeling I'm not gonna be sticking around this dustball much longer. Any chance I could hitch a ride to wherever you're going?" The bounty hunter shrugged.

"If you're leaving in the next hour, and you've got credits, then sure. Meet me back here as soon as you're ready. Wait too long though, and this docking bay will be empty when you get here." Kin didn't even spare her a nod before taking off down the ramp and through the city. As he reached the street that had been his home for the past 8 years, the sense of imminent danger went twisting around him again, this time with a horribly familiar note.

 _Angerfearhatedarkness._ Sith.

Only one reason for a Sith to be on Tatooine.

Kin swore fluently in Huttese, then bolted up to the second building in the row and opened the door with a hastily punched code. The old Dug sitting at a desk in the corner took one look at his face and called,

"Leia, get on out here, your father's here!" before pulling a blaster out from under her desk. Leia appeared then, from the back room, a palli in her hand. Upon seeing her father, the fruit dropped to the floor. Kin flashed her a quick (and very fake) grin, knowing it wouldn't do much to reassure her.

She felt things too, after all.

"Listen, Mirilba, we have to go. Can you tell Gannara?" Mirilba nodded, checking the safety on her blaster.

"Good luck, boy. You take care of your dad, you hear me?" Leia, worry gathering in her eight-year-old eyes, threw her arms around the Dug's spindly neck, then came over and grabbed his hand.

Packing was a quick thing; Kin had had supplies ready to go the entire time they'd lived on Tatooine. All he had to do was add Leia's stuffed Bantha(called General Pookums) to the top of the bag. Well that, and retrieve the elegantly crafted piece of durasteel from its hollow space in the wall and drop it in as well. He threw a leather jacket on, wrapped his daughter in a hooded poncho, and then went to the bottom left kitchen cabinet and punched a button on the little receiver wired through the wall.

"Come on, Little Princess." He said quietly. "We've gotta head out, alright?"

Though her eyes were bright with frightened tears, Leia nodded, clutching his hand.

They reached the end of the street as the Sith landed on the planet. Kin looked down at Leia.

"We're gonna have to run, Princess. I'm gonna carry you, ok?" He knelt and let her climb onto his back, locking skinny arms around his neck. They'd done this a million times, playing this game or that.

The irony was not lost on him.

He walked with urgency, but he did not run, not even as they passed a squad of Stormtroopers. Not searching. Not yet.

Over everything, he could feel the Sith, a twisted knot of darkness, and prayed the creature could not feel him.

Kin thanked whatever gods were left in the Galaxy when they reached the Tarrelian's bay. Leia gracefully slipped down, and resumed her death grip on his hand.

Kin Starseeker squeezed his daughter's hand, pulled the lightsaber from its spot in the bag, and clipped it to his belt, its weight a familiar and welcome burden, grounding him and warding off the low level panic that had been on the edges of his mind since the first warning.

He pushed the flashing button on his right wrist, and then guided Leia up the ramp as their little domed house, their relatively peaceful life on Tatooine, and Kin Starseeker went up in a ball of flame.

As the navicomputer calculated their coordinates, Anakin Skywalker grinned savagely, and let his shields down, broadcasting his Force presence to the entire planet. There was just enough time to feel a surge of _furyfrustrationfearFAILURE_ from the Sith before the ship jumped to hyperspace.

* * *

A/N: Comments are nice, they fuel my soul.


	9. Life in the Corellian Capital

20 BBY, Corellia, Capital city of Coronet

"Is the blue all water?" asked Taryk, nose practically pressed to the transparisteel port viewer.

Obi-Wan smiled, remembering his own first sight of a planet other than Coruscant or Ilum.

"Yes." he answered, "Corellia has a very diverse landscape."

"It's amazing." said the boy simply. Obi-Wan agreed, but said nothing.

He did join Taryk, though, as their transport passed by the floating shipyards. His young charge's attention was immediately captured by the newly-constructed Star Destroyer in the nearest yard.

There was no decoration, only cold gray durasteel.

 _Dominance,_ read its nameplate.

He tore his eyes from the huge cruiser, so similar and yet somehow the antithesis of the GAR battlecruisers he'd commanded. He released the reflexive upsurge of _feargriefnausea_ that accompanied the memories into the Force, closing his eyes briefly in pain. Taryk, sensing his discomfort, looked up at him with concerned gray eyes. He waved a hand, reassuring the boy, he hoped.

They did not speak again until the transport touched down in Coronet's main spaceport. Obi-Wan turned his gaze up at the sinking sun.

"If we're going to find lodging before nightfall, my boy, we'd best be on our way." Taryk nodded, and followed along.

* * *

They rented a room above a cantina, the Cheerful Dug. Master Kenobi had chuckled at the sign, and muttered something that sounded like "That'll be the day."

Taryk wasn't sure why Master Kenobi wanted to live in the city. For himself, he thought he'd prefer the quiet rural villages that dotted the planet's surface. Maybe Master Kenobi meant for them to blend in to the crowds.

As Taryk set their bags down, his Master moved around the suite. It was a small place, little more than a bed, sofa and fresher. Still, it was bigger than Taryk's room at the Temple had been.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Master Kenobi was running his hands along the undecorated walls. Taryk was about to ask what he was doing when the Jedi Master knocked a fist against the durasteel. The sound was hollow, as if there was a space behind the wall. Kenobi nodded to himself, then reached for his lightsaber, igniting the blue blade and sinking it into the wall. He cut a small square hole in the wall near the floor, careful to keep the removed piece intact. He deactivated his 'saber, and slipped it into the hollow space, then looked over at Taryk.

"May I?" he asked, holding out one hand. Feeling numb, and vaguely stupid, Taryk nodded mutely and handed his own lightsaber, the one he'd spent weeks constructing almost three years ago, to his Master. Kenobi placed it down next to his own, then replaced the section of wall. The metal, still glowing red, fused easily back together. Taryk felt the absence of his 'saber like a hole in his heart. One more thing the Empire had taken from him.

"Right then," said Kenobi softly. "That should hide them reasonably well." He smiled sadly at Taryk, and sank onto the sofa. "So," he said, still speaking quietly, "Your training is going to be a little different than what you prepared for, I think." Taryk, unsure if he should speak, simply nodded. His Master looked down at his hands, clasped in his lap. "You can talk, you know." He said, and this time there was a spark of humor in his eyes.

The corner of Taryk's mouth twitched up.

"Sorry, Master, I-I know it's going to be different, but-if we have to hide, how am I going to learn all the things I need to know?" This last part came out in a rush, all the words running together.

He'd been living with the Jedi Master for six months now, but had never been alone with him. And, despite himself, he was a little in awe of Master Kenobi. After all, the man was famous. He'd been a celebrity back at the Temple, before-

Taryk crushed that train of thought.

Kenobi smiled warmly, eyes crinkling.

"First, I think we should come up with different ways of addressing each other, as "master" and "padawan" are fairly recognizable terms to beings from the Inner Core. I think I'll also need to change my name, and maybe my face as well. Would you be averse to calling me Uncle?"

Taryk's first instinct was to laugh, and he couldn't stop the smile that pulled at his mouth. To think that he, 13 year old Jedi Youngling, would be Obi-Wan Kenobi's nephew! Still fighting the slightly hysterical urge to burst out laughing, he nodded.

"I think I could do that, M-uh, Uncle."

"Uncle Ben it is, then," said Kenobi. He too, seemed to find the situation amusing, if the spark in his gray eyes was anything to go by. "As to the rest, we'll have to-improvise." Another smile, this one fond and a little sad. "I think I can teach you dueling with vibroblades, and so long as we're very, very discreet and keep well informed of Imperial presence in the city, we can practice with the Force fairly normally. Meditation, of course, is easy." Taryk raised an eyebrow. "Well, not easy to learn, but easy enough to do discreetly." clarified Kenobi. "What is it?" he asked, as Taryk dropped his gaze to the floor.

"It's just-I wasn't sure I'd ever be a Padawan, even with the war. I'm-I'm not very good." It still hurt to admit. He couldn't help but think that if Order 66 had never come through, he'd probably have been assigned to the Service Corps by now. It was a confusing thought. Did that make him somehow grateful for the horror that had gotten him here?

Kenobi leaned forward and placed a hand on his arm.

"Don't worry," he said with a reassuring smile. "I have a track record with unusual apprentices. I'm sure we'll be just fine. Can I tell you a secret?"

Taryk nodded, unsure what was coming.

"I was old when I was chosen as well. I'd given up all hope of becoming a Knight when my Master met me."

"Really?" asked Taryk. He wouldn't have believed it, except that he could feel the truth in the Force. "You?"

His teacher smiled again.

"Yes, me. You're joining a proud tradition of odd Padawans, young Taryk."

* * *

Taryk hadn't been lying, though he'd certainly exaggerated a bit. His dueling left quite a lot to be desired, and he had a hard time connecting to the Force in the physical world. On the other hand, Taryk had a strong wild talent for sensing the intentions of others, including non-Force Sensitives. Their first day on Corellia, he'd managed to save Obi-Wan from getting swindled at a weapons shop because he could sense the subtly disingenuous undercurrent of the clerk's sales pitch.

He was also very, very good at meditating, to Obi-Wan's immense amusement. More than once, he'd had the thought that the teen was a better meditator than he himself was, and he was undoubtedly better at it than his first apprentice. Taryk could easily empty his mind and calm himself, and he had no difficulty in accessing the Force while sunk into a trance.

 _He'd have made a good healer, Bant. And Anakin, you could stand to learn from him._

Of course, they did more than train. Obi-Wan had gotten a job writing for the local paper, which allowed him to stay abreast of Imperial visits and functions, even if it turned his stomach to write propaganda pieces. At 13, Taryk was too young to do any official work, but he was the unofficial busboy for the cantina they lived above, and he was a talented eavesdropper.

All in all, Taryk Rovan was a completely different challenge altogether than Anakin had been, for which Obi-Wan was grateful. At least this apprentice wasn't likely to go diving into oncoming speeder traffic (Taryk was not a fan of open cockpit flying)

And between the two of them, nothing happened on Corellia, or in most smuggling circles, that they didn't know about.

And so it was that Obi-Wan Kenobi heard of Assaj Ventress' arrival on Corellia barely three weeks after moving there himself.

The Cheerful Dug was doing a good business when he walked in. He nodded to the Tholothian bartender, Amaran.

"Is my nephew around?" he asked, resting his elbows on the bar.

"Yeah. 'E's upstairs, as far as I know." Obi-Wan nodded, then pushed away from the bar and headed up.

As promised, Taryk was sitting on the floor of their rooms, eyes closed, sunk into a light trance. Obi-Wan roused him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Afternoon." Taryk grinned at him.

"You'll never guess what I heard today, Uncle!"

"Careful what you assume. I've a certain talent for precognition, after all." The boy laughed.

"Well, alright then. What am I going to tell you?" He stood up and crossed his arms, amused.

Obi-Wan chuckled and ran a hand over his chin, still not used to the lack of a beard.

"I assume it's not that the Emperor's dropped dead?" Taryk snorted.

"I wish. No, I heard there's a new bounty hunter in town. Apparently she's setting up shop permanently. Got a real reputation, too. The Spacer lunch crowd were all talking about her. According to them, she uses _lightsabers_."

Obi-Wan went stiff. He knew of only one bounty hunter who owned lightsabers.

"You're sure? A lightsaber-wielding female bounty hunter?" Taryk nodded.

"Yeah. Why, do you know her?"

"I believe I do." Obi-Wan crossed his arms. "Unfortunately, I don't know whether her presence here is a good thing or not."

* * *

A/N: Leave me comments, I like to know what you're thinking!


	10. Sheev is Just Plain Rude

14 BBY, Coruscant

There was only one room on the top floor of the Imperial Palace. It was all black durasteel, with only the barest hint of light, not quite enough to see by. With the red robed Imperial Guards in double rows up to the throne itself, the Imperial Throne Room was an imposing sight, meant to strike fear into its visitors, no matter how loyal to the Emperor they might be.

To Darth Malefus, it was an aspiration.

As he walked down the long room, boots clicking on the durasteel floor, the Sith apprentice allowed a smirk to cross his face. Today was a good day, after all. Today, he'd defeated a Jedi Master. Let his master find fault in _that._

"Have you been successful, Apprentice?"

Malefus dropped to one knee before the throne, bowing his head, as was expected.

"I have, Master. The Jedi is dead."

"Well done." The figure on the throne was as inscrutable as ever. It was impossible to tell what Sidious was thinking, unless he wanted you to know. "Now continue your mission. You will rest when all the survivors are dead. Never forget, you were not the apprentice I wanted."

Malefus couldn't stop the sharp spike of anger at Sidious' comment. As if he didn't know already! He wished more than anything that the Skywalker brat hadn't died in 66, that he might kill him and show his Master who deserved to be a true Sith Lord.

Darth Sidious waved a wasted hand in dismissal.

Good mood effectively destroyed, Malefus stalked back down the long throne room, cloak fluttering impressively in his wake. The guards did not react to his presence. Behind him, a smile twisted the old Sith Lord's thin lips. He did so enjoy tormenting his apprentice. It almost made up for his not being the Chosen One.

Sidious' amusement at his expense followed him, whispering over his skin in the Force, all the way across the city to the Senate building. Four Senators came within a hairsbreadth of death as he swept through the halls. Fools. Should know better than to speak to a Sith Lord without permission. Cursing his master's insistence that he be a visible presence in the Senate, Malefus dropped into his desk chair. In an attempt to recover his good humor, he called up his memory of the day before, of sinking his blade into the Jedi's pale green chest, his Nautolan eyes widening in shocked agony.

Ah, yes. That was better.

Able to focus again, Malefus turned his attention to the waiting hologram from his agent in the Outer Rim.

* * *

"Liar! You're with him! You brought him here to kill me!"

Padmé Naberrie Amidala Skywalker came awake gasping for air, panic wracking her limbs. She brought trembling fingers to her throat, still feeling the invisible force around her windpipe, cutting off her air. Could still see her husband's face, twisted in fury, strange golden eyes burning with madness. Except, somehow, she knew it wasn't madness.

Only Anakin, the worst of him.

Padmé was still shaking, unable to calm herself. She needed Luke. She needed her son. He was proof that her dream was only that, a dream.

But Luke wasn't here, he'd been begging all week to spend the night with Senator Chuchi's son, and she'd finally relented that morning. All she could do was sit and reassure herself that she could breathe, that her husband wasn't trying to kill her.

She stood. If she couldn't sleep anymore, she'd at least get some work done. The first thing she did was open the widows, flooding her dark apartment with synthetic light from the city. It wasn't as good as the Nubian sunshine, but it was better than the darkness.

She couldn't shake the feeling of golden eyes watching her.

Despite her earlier thought of getting work done, Padmé found herself in Luke's bedroom, looking at his neatly made bed. She reached out and picked up his stuffed Nuna, pressing it to her breast. If she'd been Force-sensitive, might she be able to feel her son's presence on his favorite toy?

She felt nothing from the Nuna, but just then, she did feel a gentle hand against the small of her back.

It should have been frightening. She should have jumped, dived back for her bed. But with the phantom touch came a wash of calm that stilled her shaking shoulders better than any breathing exercise. She could almost hear the words, in a low voice, slightly accented and roughened by sand.

Anakin.

* * *

"Senator, you don't look well. Are you alright?" Bail had turned polite indifference into an art form. His words were perfectly formal, all insincere concern.

"I'm alright," she said. Then, softer, "I just haven't been sleeping well." There was a brief flash of real worry in his amber eyes, then it was gone, and he responded,

"Well, you should take better care of yourself. If I'm going to be working with you, I'd like you at your best." Palpatine had placed them on the planning committee for this years' Empire Day celebration, which was ironic on several levels, not the least of which being that Bail was organizing an armed resistance movement against the aforementioned Empire.

Padmé put a smile on her face, just in time for Lord Malefus to enter the office, a condescending smile on his pale face. Malefus was a young man, tall and thin, and possessed of a certain disturbingly magnetic charm. It was his eyes, though, specifically their unnatural gold coloring, that drew her horrified attention. Only 20 years of experience in politics kept her face from betraying her. Normally, she affected admiration and warm civility for the Sith apprentice (not that she was meant to know he was anything more than a special agent) but after last night, she just couldn't do it.

"If you'll excuse me, Senator Organa, Lord Malefus, I need to prepare for this afternoon's session." Both men nodded to her, and Malefus graciously stepped aside to give her room to pass.

Did she see Anakin in the set of the Sith's shoulders? In the way he carried himself, as though there was nothing he could not destroy? No. No. She shook herself.

Head held high, not looking at Malefus, Padmé walked through the office doorway. Not until she was back in her own office, the door sealed behind her, did she let the tears come.

It was hours later, as she hugged Luke tight to her while he babbled about his day, that she finally felt at ease again.

The dreams continued. They showed her different things each time. Anakin, cutting down Jedi like so many battle droids, Anakin, kneeling before Palpatine, calling him "Master", and, worst of all, Anakin, burning, screaming that he hated her. Sometimes, she saw a black armored monstrosity and, somehow, she knew that was Anakin too, murdering force-sensitive children with a ruby red lightsaber.

"Very well." Even through a holo, Palpatine's voice was all croaking menace. "The Imperial banners will henceforth be at least four meters wide. We are adjourned for the week. I thank you, Senators, for your commitment in this important issue." Despite all her practice at ignoring the disturbing things said in session these days, Padmé couldn't keep her fist from clenching under her voting display.

Sometimes, she really hated Coruscant.

"Senator Amidala," Bail's call reached her just as she left the Senate Chamber. She turned, and nodded in acknowledgment. "I just wanted to touch base with you about the ice sculptures for next week." he said, walking up to her.

Right. Fifth Empire Day celebration. Wasn't _that_ a pleasant thing to look forward to?

"Of course," she said. "I think five is a good number. Symbolic, and all that." He smiled.

"Yes, I agree." As he swept past her, his hand brushed against hers, the movement hidden by their robes. No one would see the datachip that passed between them. As session was out for the week, Padmé felt no shame in going home to view whatever was on it, rather than to her office.

Besides, her apartment was swept daily for bugs.

She had no idea what might be on the chip. Bail had never risked slipping anything to her before today; there were simply too many eyes on them. In the four months since her nightmares begun, they'd had exactly one personal conversation.

Whatever was on the chip in her pocket was important.

She locked the door behind her and crossed to her bedroom, retrieving her private datapad from its spot under her mattress. The chip slotted into place with a click, and started playing the holo recorded onto it.

Her fingers went to her trembling lips as the holo crackled, then solidified.

 _He cut his hair_ , was her first, absurd thought. Then, _Oh Gods, it's really him._

"Hello, love." said Anakin. "I hear you're worried about me. That's just like you, to be worrying about me when you live within four miles of a Sith Lord." he smiled fondly. "I'm fine, my love, I swear. I've got a job playing with droids, and we're both as happy as can be expected, given where we live. I miss you every single day, and she asks about you a lot. Tell Luke his dad loves him, alright? I love you so, so much, and I'm fine. Don't worry about me, Angel." He smiled again as the recording looped.

Padmé listened to it twice more, then destroyed the chip, grinding it into the floor with her heel, and then tossing it into the fireplace she insisted on having.

His voice played in her head as the chip burned.

She dreamed of him that night, but instead of madness and fury, there was only love in his desert-blue eyes.

* * *

A/N: I live an Anidala trash life. Let me know what you think of Malefus, please. I like him, he likes to steal his scenes. Reviews fuel my soul.


	11. Insurgency is the New Peacekeeping

14 BBY, Mandalore, Capital City of Keldabe

An Imperial parade was an impressive show of force, he had to admit. First came the walkers, all two-legged AT-STs today. No need for the big guys here, this was just a show of "Patriotic feeling." Following the AT-STs was platoon after platoon of immaculate Stormtroopers, all in perfectly straight lines. "The Pride of the Empire," proclaimed the banner fluttering on the breeze.

From his spot on a roof, Rex snorted.

"Pride of the Empire, my ass." growled the man next to him, voice muffled by the scarf he wore to obscure his face.

"Less chatter, more rifle assembly, Jesse." said Rex, though he had to grin at his brother's dig.

Stormtroopers, after all, were an affront to everything he'd been bred for.

Rex brought his specs up, scanning the crowds around the city center. Ahsoka was easy to find, as usual, her blue and white Montrals standing out among the fair human heads around her. Beside her, just as planned, stood Ko-Iri, her coppery hair shining under the sun. Across the Parade Route, he picked out Mashan's horns. Kix, if everything had gone well, would be with Zatt behind the huge display background of the stage.

Rex was a little worried about the younger kids. Zatt, at least, had been with them for a couple of years now, and at 15, was older than Ahsoka had been when she'd gone into the field. Ko-Iri and Mashan, though, had arrived from Dagobah via refugee shuttle less than a month ago.

It was their very first op with Torrent cell. Ahsoka insisted they could handle it, and Rex had been fighting alongside her long enough to trust her words with his life. All the same, he was worried. They were just kids.

The parade was winding up. The Grand Finale, some awards presentation, was to start in less than a minute. Beside him, Jesse slotted the last piece of his rifle into place, nodding sharply up at Rex.

"Domino One, this is Two and Four. We are good to go up top." There was no reply, but Ahsoka shot a hand signal to Mashan, before turning and slipping between the parade goers, making her way slowly closer to the stage in the square. Ko-Iri followed.

Operation Duchess was go.

Down in the square, Mandalore's Imperial governor, one Moff Vizer, climbed the steps up to the stage, a squad of troopers in his wake. He took the podium to wild applause.

Rex rolled his eyes. Beside him, Jesse made a rude gesture at the crowd.

Vizer was speaking now, some shavit about the valor of the officers being awarded. Rex brought his specs around to the shadows cast by the central display board behind Vizer. Ahsoka, head now swathed in black was crouched there. Ko-Iri and Mashan were in position as well, pressed flat in the shadows cast by the other two boards.

"They're in position. Take your aim and wait for the signal." Jesse nodded and leveled the sniper rifle across the edge of the roof, looking down the barrel to find his target.

Just as Vizer's speech came to an end, ("and may the Empire last a thousand more years!") three black canisters rolled across the stage, and three black figures slipped off to the sides. Red smoke poured out of them, quickly obscuring the entire group of Imps. Rex grinned.

Just a second too late, he heard the boots on the rook behind them.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be up here!" The voice was distant, they had a few moments. He looked down at his brother.

Jesse squeezed off his shot.

Moff Vizer dove for cover, screaming. Just as planned, Jesse's shot impacted on the stage near his foot.

"What are you doing up here? This isn't Public space!" The two troopers stopped a few feet away.

"Oh, sorry," said Rex, desperately hoping the rifle was out of sight. If they could avoid suspicion, it would make escaping that much easier. "We-uh-wanted a good seat for the show, you know?"

"Well, this isn't approved seating, Citizen."

"Sorry." said Rex. "We'll just go, then. Come on, Jesse." As he made to walk toward them though, he heard the telltale burst of static that always preceded comm chatter. He wasn't about to wait to hear whether it was orders to detain all citizens for questioning.

Rex threw himself forward, slamming his booted foot into the lead trooper's stomach. At the same time, he pulled one DC from its holster and fired twice, the bolts going through the cheap armor like plastic.

"We'd better split," he said. "More will be coming to investigate."

As if on cue, the door onto the rook burst open, revealing a jumble of black and white armor.

"Kriff!"

"Go!" Rex went, sprinting for the emergency stairs along the side of the building. He spun his other pistol out of its holster as he ran, firing over his shoulder. Red bolts flew around him. One struck his back, but his Phase 2 gear absorbed the shot. Take that, Stormtroopers.

He vaulted the last two flights of stairs, tucking into a roll to absorb the impact. Jesse joined him as he came upright, and they took off down the alley, the ends of Jesse's scarf fluttering behind them.

He commed Ahsoka as they ran. Her voice came through, breathless and hushed.

"They made us. We had to split up."

"Same on our end," he said, "Rendezvous then?"

"The standard. I'll see you there." The comm crackled off.

Ahsoka could hear the squad behind her catching up. She'd been dodging through Keldabe's alleys for the past four hours, trying to lose them.

Stormtroopers were persistent, she'd give them that. Hopefully, she'd at least managed to draw them off of Ko-Iri and Mashan. She hadn't lied to Rex, they were perfectly capable of handling themselves, but that didn't stop her from wanting to protect them.

She stopped running in an alley framed by particularly tall buildings. Reaching for the Force, she leapt high, catching a tiny handhold on the durasteel. The footsteps got steadily closer, and within 90 seconds, a standard squad, six troopers and a gray-uniformed officer, rounded the corner. Ahsoka pressed herself against the wall, gathering the Force around herself. As they passed underneath her, she leapt, drawing her lightsabers. She landed in a blur of green and yellow, taking two armored heads off before sinking into her favorite stance. Ignoring alarmed shouts of "Jedi!", Ahsoka deflected their shots and rolled forward, slashing neatly through blasters, then bodies. The officer was the last one standing. Ahsoka took out his comm with a precise graze along his arm, backflipped over his head, and ran him through before he could bring his blaster to bear on her.

It never failed to strike her, how similar destroying droids was to killing sentients.

Sentients who wanted to kill everyone she loved, but still, sentients.

Pursuers lost, Ahsoka wasted no time in getting to the rendezvous point, which was the basement of an empty house in Keldabe's western sector. While the run-down buildings and seedy bars might make the average Mando'a nervous, Ahsoka felt welcome.

There was no Imperial presence here. Not yet, anyway. And no one looked twice at hooded figures. It reminded her of Coruscant, in that way.

Zatt and Kix were already there, eating some kind of soup. Ahsoka took the bowl Zatt offered her and settled down next to the Nautolan.

"Welcome back, Master Ahsoka," said the boy, with a wide grin. Ahsoka returned his smile, and blew on her soup.

"I take it your part of the mission went well, then?" As Zatt's mouth was full of soup, Kix answered.

"Yes, Sir," he said. "Zatt here could make good money as a slicer if he wanted to, and I've got it all recorded." The man pulled a transmitter from his belt, and pressed play.

The recording showed the stage area, from the moment the smoke bombs had gone off. Ahsoka, having had to split before any of the real action had begun, watched with interest.

The rifle shot was a blue on blue streak, impacting the stage half an inch from Vizer's foot. Jesse had always been a hell of a shot. The Stormtroopers were in chaos, searching in vain through the red smoke to find the source of the shot. When the smoke finally cleared, the two peripheral display boards were showing the GAR sigil, and in the center, flickering in and out of focus, was the symbol of the Jedi Order. "DEFEATED, NOT DESTROYED", was emblazoned in bold red text on all three screens.

"Perfect," said Ahsoka. "Do we know when the official broadcast cut out?"

"Yeah," piped up Zatt. "Right after the smoke bombs went off. Guess the Imps didn't want anyone to see they were vulnerable."

"Yeah, we'll fix that tomorrow," came Rex's voice from the doorway. Ahsoka grinned brightly at them.

"What took you guys so long?" she asked.

"We ran into a couple of competent bucket-heads. Jesse here nearly died of shock." Jesse, who was in the process of unwrapping his head scarf, flipped Rex off, to laughs from the other four.

"Where are the kids?" he asked, pulling the scarf away to reveal his GAR tattoo. Ahsoka's smile died.

"We got separated. I told them to lay low for a few hours, then come here. They should be here any minute."

She knew the two kids were smart and capable, but dodging Imperial officers was different kettle of Giju from training with one other kid and a 900 year old Jedi Master in an isolated swamp. Force, she hoped they'd done as she'd told them.

Feeling a sudden rush of sympathy for Anakin, and, even more so, Obi-Wan (Force, they'd both been so reckless, she didn't know how he was still _alive,_ let alone sane) Ahsoka picked nervously at her fingernails, letting the other four talk around her, eyes on the doorway.

She needn't have worried. Less than five minutes after Rex and Jesse's arrival, the basement door opened to reveal two slight, tired-looking figures. Ko-Iri, red hair falling out of its braid, waved jauntily at the rest of Torrent cell.

"Did we miss dinner?"

* * *

A/N: Comments make my day :)


	12. In Which the Game Board is Flipped

10 BBY. Aldera Palace, Aldera, Alderaan

Bail Organa stared in open-mouthed horror at the text in front of him, unable to think past the wall of panic in his mind.

 _They have a passenger from the Jewel of Alderaan. Identities of all onboard compromised._

Bail sat frozen for five more seconds, then snatched up the hidden commlink in his belt, and punched in 441-004. The call was answered almost immediately by a tall woman in white and gold.

"Mon," he said, not waiting for her greeting. "I need a safe place. We've just been severely compromised."

* * *

The Same Day, Coruscant

Senator Padmé Amidala sank onto her sofa, cup of Nubian Jinra tea in hand. Across the sitting room, her oldest friend looked up from her datapad.

"Isn't Luke due home about now?" asked Sabé. Padmé smiled over at the other woman.

"Yes, any minute now. You know, Sabé, you're not my handmaiden anymore. I'm happy to have you visit, but you didn't have to come all the way to Coruscant just to escort me to dinner." Sabé laughed.

"Of course not, but somebody has to watch your back. Besides, it's been ages since the last time I saw Coruscant. Or you and Luke," she added, with a mock reproving look.

"I know," Padmé sighed. "It's been too long since my last vacation, but Luke's been so excited about school lately, I hate to pull him away from it." As she finished speaking, the apartment door slid open, revealing the subject of their conversation.

Luke Amidala came into the room, spotted Sabé, and sprinted over to fling his arms around her waist.

"Aunt Sabé! I missed you!" The small woman smiled, swinging Luke around in a circle.

"Your Auntie missed you too, little Luke!" she said as she set him back on his feet.

"How was school, love?" asked Padmé, as Luke came over to hug her as well. His face lit up, were it possible, even more.

"We're learning about the Clone Wars!" he said excitedly to Sabé. Turning back to his mother, Luke started narrating his day. Padmé listened with one ear, until she caught out a familiar word.

"-and she said the Jedi Generals used to-"

"Did you say Jedi?" interrupted Padmé, tone harsher than she'd meant it. Luke, with his eight-year-old innocence, didn't notice. His class had been studying the Clone Wars for the past week, but she'd assumed they wouldn't talk about the Jedi.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed. "The Jedi were the leaders of all the Clones, Mom! We got to watch some wizard holos of them! Too bad they were traitors in the end, huh? I thought they seemed totally wizard. There was even this one who was supposed to be an astral pilot! Just like I want to be!"

Padmé wasn't surprised he'd picked that detail out. Ever since she'd told him that his father had been a pilot in the Clone Wars, Luke had been adamant about becoming one as well. What was surprising was that the school had access to old holoreels from the Clone Wars. Of course, it made some sense as well. Make the Jedi, and their supposed betrayal of the Republic, common knowledge to the next generation, and they would never become legends. It was a political masterstroke, now that she thought about it, perfectly in character for Palpatine.

Luke, meanwhile was still chattering.

"-and the reporters had these astral nicknames for all the Jedi and their troops, like The Negotiator and the Hero With No Fear!" Padmé couldn't help but flinch at the last bit. Unfortunately, Luke _did_ catch that. "Is something wrong, Mom?"

"Ah, no, sweetheart, it's just-the end of the war was a hard time." Although she _knew_ the answer would hurt, she couldn't help but ask, "What sort of holoreels did you get to watch?" Luke, relieved that she was alright, happily answered.

"It was a segment from the Second Battle of Geonosis! There were _four_ Jedi there, Mom! Luminara Unduli, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Anakin Skywalker a _nd_ Obi-Wan Kenobi! Anakin Skywalker was the one called the Hero With No Fear," he added informatively. Padmé had to press her lips together to keep from bursting into hysterical laughter at the sheer irony.

"Luke, sweetheart, you do remember the Jedi were traitors to the Republic, right?" Padmé thanked the gods for Sabé. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to keep it together for _that_ particular lie. Luke shrugged.

"Yeah, Aunt Sabé, I know," he said. "I still think they were astral, though. Especially the pilot one." He turned back towards Padmé then. "Mom, you knew some of them, right? Were they astral?"

Padmé was saved from having to answer him by her comm going off. Not her Senate comm, either, but the one she kept in her stocking. The one that only connected to three other commlinks in the Galaxy. Hands shaking with trepidation, she pulled it out.

"This is Senator Amidala." she said, some of her wariness bleeding into her voice. The message consisted of three short bursts of static. It was part of a coded system she'd memorized more than eight years ago.

Positions compromised. Get out.

* * *

Bail slammed his fist down onto his desk in anger, nearly four hours after he'd received the message from his informant with the Imperial Fleet. He'd gotten through to Padmé, who was in the most immediate danger, but the neither of the other two messages had gone through. There were only two possibilities as to why: either both Jedi's comms had been destroyed, which seemed unlikely, or the Empire had begun jamming his communications between his message to Padmé and his attempted transmission to Master Skywalker.

He really, really didn't want to think about what that meant.

At least his order to Mon had been received. With any luck, Taryk had already pulled out. There was nothing on Master Tano and her cell that the Empire didn't already know. And Padmé had been warned. He could only trust that Kenobi and Skywalker would handle themselves.

It was too _soon,_ dammit! Two more years, and he'd have had the whole Alliance set up. As it was, they had several unconnected cells in the Outer Rim, an informal network of spies, and one general with actual combat experience. Well, provided the Jedi got out alive, they'd have three generals, but still.

They needed a fleet. Mon had been working on that. Her latest round of negotiations, with the Mon Cala this time, had been promising, but were as of yet unfinished, and now doubly important.

Across the palace, he knew Breha was destroying all evidence of the Alliance. If his comms had been jammed, then the Empire knew of his involvement, and there would be Star Destroyers in Alderaan's atmosphere within hours. Breha would not abandon her people and, in order to protect her, he was going to have to run before the Empire arrived. With him gone, she could claim to have had no knowledge of his treason. There was no guarantee that Palpatine would believe it, but even he couldn't kill her without proof of anti-Imperial activities.

Half an hour later, his personal Corvette, _Tantive IV_ rocketed out of the atmosphere. Standing in her cockpit, he watched the blue green surface of his home grow smaller and smaller, until it disappeared into stretched out stars.

He couldn't shake the horrible feeling he'd never see Alderaan again.

* * *

Luke Naberrie Amidala was not stupid. He knew something was wrong, and he'd known it since his mother's comm had gone off. He also knew that they were _not_ , no matter what Mom said, going on vacation. Mom was always happy when they went to Naboo, but now, she was _scared._

Luke's mom was sad a lot, and she worried a lot, too, but he'd never felt her be scared.

Luke was scared too, but not because his Mom was. No, there was Something in Luke's head telling him to be scared, to run as far away as he could get from Coruscant. Everything felt cold and dark, even though Coruscant didn't have a winter season, and the city's lights were all on. It was just like the time he'd met Lord Malefus. He'd _known_ the man was bad, even though Mom told him not to be afraid.

Luke wasn't sure how he knew things like that, but he believed the Something when it when it told him stuff.

Mom and Aunt Sabé packed while Luke watched, holding his stuffed Nuna, General Jinn (he'd found the name in one of his datapads about Theed) to his chest. When Mom finished throwing things into their bags, which took less time than normal, (she wasn't even folding things like she always told Luke to) she took Luke's had in hers, and they left, locking the door behind them.

Everyone, even C-3PO was really quiet on the way to Mom's ship, which just proved something was wrong. C-3PO was _never_ quiet. Mom jumped every time someone came around the corner, and Aunt Sabé kept her hand on her blaster the whole time. She'd promised to teach Luke how to shoot it when he was old enough. Maybe, since they definitely weren't going on vacation, Mom would let him learn now.

Mom's shiny Nubian transport ship was Luke's favorite ship in the whole world, but even the sight of its silver hull didn't cheer him up.

The Something was getting louder. It was like the time he'd gotten to watch a Star Destroyer take off from the docks, engines roaring as they cycled up. Except, Luke wasn't _hearing_ the roar this time, he was _feeling_ it, and it was making his head hurt.

On board the ship, his Mom strapped him into a seat right behind her in the cockpit. Sabé took the co-pilot's seat, where Luke usually sat. Last time they'd gone to Naboo, she'd let Luke hit the hyperdrive lever when she said it was time. Today, she didn't even look back at him as she switched on all the systems. Aunt Sabé did reach behind her and squeeze his knee, though. The ship rose smoothly. It never shook when Mom took off, because Mom was the ship's favorite person in the whole Galaxy. It always shook when Captain Panaka was flying. Thinking about that, Luke smiled. He almost managed to tell himself everything would be okay as they glided out of the hangar.

That was when the storm started.

His head was splitting open, and he was going to be sick. Distantly, he could hear someone screaming, but all he could think about was how his head hurt and he was going to be sick and there was _feardarknessDANGER_ everywhere and he couldn't see anything but white and then there was nothing at all.

* * *

Below, on the planet's surface, Emperor Palpatine, full time Galactic despot and Dark Lord of the Sith, tamped down on his fury. Even Sith Lords did not allow their emotions to control them, after all. In his own defense, he hadn't been this angry since his favorite pet project had thrown 10 years of hard work out the window in a _ridiculous_ show of nobility.

"Gone." he said. The Grand Moff nodded.

"Yes, M'Lord. Her apartment is empty, and her ship is no longer in its hangar. We believe she's already fled the system with the boy."

"Find her, Grand Moff." He didn't add any threats. There was no need.

Tarkin knew what would await him if he failed.

* * *

Across the Galaxy, at precisely the same time Luke Naberrie Amidala lost consciousness, Leia Skywalker regained it.

Breathing hard and still hearing the blond boy's screams, Leia sat up. The dream had been awful, but the details were already slipping away, leaving her with only a sense of disquiet that wouldn't let her go.

So, she did what she always did when she had bad dreams, and went to find Dad.

Clutching General Pookums to her stomach, Leia picked her way over the dismantled pit droids and their removed parts that had covered their floor for the past two days. (Dad was doing a side job for a Podracing manager) Dad was asleep on the sofa, snoring softly. Already feeling a little better, Leia tugged on his hand, and he cracked one eye open.

"Leia? 'S'wrong?"

"Had a bad dream." she said. Dad opened his other eye and sat up, patting the sofa. She scrambled up and pressed herself against his side.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her. She shook her head.

"Don't remember," she said. "it was just scary." Dad nodded, understanding, then leaned back into the sofa, stretching out his legs. "Can I stay?" she asked, and Dad smiled.

"'Course, Princess." He murmured.

He rubbed gentle circles between her shoulders until she fell asleep again, curled against his side with General Pookums smooshed between them.

By morning, she'd forgotten her dream entirely.

* * *

A/N: See, there's plot, I promise! If you're confused, that's alright! Everything will make sense later! Leave me your comments, I like them,


	13. From Coronet, With Love

A/N: Fair warning, Obi-Wan gets laid, very unsubtly, in this chapter. Nothing terribly descriptive, but it happens. If it's not your thing, feel free to skip the first scene!

* * *

18 BBY, Corellia, Capital City of Coronet

No matter how many times he tried, Obi-Wan didn't think he'd ever get used to drinking caf. The rest of the Galaxy, it seemed, was in love with the stuff, and his former Padawan was more unpleasant than any Sith Lord before he'd downed at least three cups in the morning, but Obi-Wan had always preferred tea. However, the sleazy diner he was currently patronizing didn't have any tea on its menu, and it was early morning, so there was a steaming mug of brown caf on the table in front of him. Sighing, Obi-Wan resigned himself to his fate and took a sip, pulling a face at the bitterness.

"You shouldn't grimace, Darling, it's not a good look on you." He didn't even need to look up.

"And I'm always so worried about your perception of me, Ventress." She laughed, and slid into the bench across from him.

"It's good to see you, Kenobi." she said, and he was surprised to hear the sincerity in her voice. His surprise must have shown on his face, because she cocked her head to one side and asked, "What? You're being alive means the Empire's not as all-powerful as its glorious leader seems to think it is. I hate the Sith just as much as you do, my dear Obi-Wan."

"I don't doubt that. It was the Emperor who commanded Dooku to hang you out to dry, wasn't it?" Ventress hissed between her teeth in anger, and Obi-Wan held up a hand, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, I didn't come here to fight with you. I just wanted to let you know that I live here."

"You're placing a lot of trust in me, Master Kenobi," she said, and she sounded honestly confused about it. "With just the information that you live, I could do you a great deal of harm." Obi-Wan smiled at the former Sith apprentice.

"My dear, I know you hate the Sith. So do I. If I'm recalling our encounter with Maul and Savage Opress correctly, having a common enemy makes us allies, not enemies."

The woman looked at him like she wasn't quite sure what to make of him.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi, you are the strangest Jedi I have ever encountered." Obi-Wan actually laughed at that.

"I can honestly say I've never heard that before. Generally that assessment was reserved for my Padawan." She snorted.

"No, you're a good deal more mysterious than he ever was." Obi-Wan looked down. Talking about Anakin in the past tense was…difficult. Seeing his change in expression, Ventress' smile died as well.

"I'm sorry. I know the two of you were close." Surprised that she would be so sentimental as to offer him consolation, Obi-Wan looked up. She was watching him, something unfathomable in her ice-blue gaze. "I might have been a Sith, Obi-Wan, but I'm not completely without empathy." Her tone was almost reproving, as though he should have known this already. And, thinking back on a few of their encounters, she was right.

So," she said, after an awkward pause. "We'll just let each other be, then?"

"Well," said Obi-Wan, who was enjoying talking to an adult who actually understood something of what he'd gone through in the past six months rather more than he'd like to admit, "I don't see why we can't at least be allies. I do so miss our verbal spars, if not the physical ones."

She didn't say anything, just waved the waitress droid over, but her smile told Obi-Wan all he needed to know.

From there, it was only a matter of time before they found themselves in bed together. Obi-Wan would be even further in denial of his feelings than he normally was if he said he'd never found the Rattataki woman attractive. Their "verbal spars", as he'd called them, had always had a teasing nature that had nothing to do with animosity and everything to do with mutual respect and attraction.

And, well, Obi-Wan had never been particularly good at celibacy.

After the first time, they developed a simple arrangement. Sometimes, Ventress knocked on the widow on her way home from a job, and sometimes, he found himself outside her apartment after Taryk had gone to sleep. Either way, it ended the same way, with the pair of them gasping into each other's mouths, and their Force signatures coming down from the sharp high that came from release. Sex had always made Obi-Wan feel more connected to the Living Force.

There were no romantics between them. Obi-Wan would not have dropped anything to go to her aid, nor she for him, and they both knew it. It was sex, plain and simple, with an occasional cup of tea in the mornings before they got dressed and went back to their own lives.

If Taryk thought it odd that Obi-Wan was sleeping with someone, he didn't mention it. Being a Jedi child, the boy had been introduced to the concept of sex fairly early, as well as the Jedi Order's stance on it.

Contrary to popular belief, Jedi were not required to be celibate. So long as no attachments developed, Jedi were free to pursue whatever physical relationships they chose. Indeed, sex was encouraged among Padawans, Knights, and Masters alike, as sexual frustration was not exactly conducive to inner peace. Mace Windu and Ki-Adi-Mundi's exploits, for example, had been common Temple gossip. Obi-Wan's cohort had had a very loose attitude towards sex, and they'd all slept together at some point or another. Anakin's cohort, in contrast, was very reserved, even for Jedi. To Obi-Wan's knowledge, (and Obi-Wan knew quite a lot; the Jedi Order was no better than any other organization when it came to gossip) only Aayla Secura and Anakin himself had ever engaged in anything physical, and both of them had been faithful to their chosen partners, which was odd (and strongly discouraged) for the Order.

No, Taryk and Ventress actually got on fairly well, because she hadn't told him her name, only that she knew Obi-Wan from the war.

So the years passed for Ben Kenobi, his young apprentice, and Asajj Ventress.

* * *

14 BBY, Corellia, Capital City of Coronet

Assaj Ventress _hated_ Empire Day. She hated the parades, the Imperial Governor of Corellia's annual speech about the glories of the Empire, and the way the CorSec were always anal about things they normally let slide (like her breaking the fingers of the son of a gundark who'd groped her ass last year.)

But mostly, she hated that everyone else seemed so damn excited about the holiday. There were always throngs of people at the parade, and their cheers as the Governor took the stage were sickening. How could these people not realize that they lived under a leader that would happily murder them all if he decided they were no longer useful to him? Non-Force sensitives could be so s _tupid_ sometimes.

The first and second Empire Days Asajj had had to endure, she'd gotten dead drunk in her apartment. It wasn't exactly pleasant, (and it was expensive; her Force sensitivity made it extremely difficult to get drunk) but it at least numbed the rage in her heart. Two years ago, though, instead of drinking, she'd knocked on Obi-Wan's window and spent the day with him and his little apprentice, Taryk. To this day, she couldn't explain to herself what had possessed her to do such a thing, but she hadn't regretted it, either. Besides, any day that ended with her getting laid was alright, in her datachip. She'd seen no reason not to repeat the experience last year, and now, as her least favorite day of the year rolled around, she was here again.

Well, not exactly the same; she was using the door this time, after Kenobi's exasperated "No one's going to talk about you, and even if they did, why would you _care_ , Ventress?"

Obi-Wan opened the door. She didn't say anything, just pushed past him into the suite of rooms.

"Where's your apprentice?" she asked noticing the lack of the dark-haired boy's possessions strewn around the living area.

"He's gone." said Obi-Wan unhelpfully.

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm lacing the words. "And here I thought he was hiding under the sofa." Obi-Wan snorted as she lounged across the piece of furniture in question.

"It's really better you don't know." he said. "It's to do with the Alliance. Besides, he's learned all I can teach him." Now it was Ventress' turn to snort. He was so damn blasé, always acting like nothing phased him. It was ridiculous.

"I rather doubt that. He's even younger than Skywalker was, if I'm not mistaken." Obi-Wan hummed in acceptance.

"Well, this isn't the Republic any more. He's learned enough. I trust in his abilities." He crossed his arms, done with the topic. "I have a proposition."

"Oh, Obi-Wan, you know how I enjoy those." She said, putting just enough mocking in her tone to keep him on his toes. She'd never admit it, but she did actually enjoy talking with the Jedi. He was funny, for one thing.

Sith weren't funny. Mocking and sarcastic, maybe, but not funny.

"I've got to attend the parade today." Asajj made a face. Obi-Wan nodded. "I know, and I agree. It's a disgusting display, even if they hadn't tried to exterminate my people. It's for work." Asajj almost laughed. She found Kenobi's choice of profession completely hilarious. Obi-Wan Kenobi, General in the Grand Army of the Republic, Jedi Master, and Holojournalist. If she was being honest, though, he wasn't half bad at it. Better than most of the shavit the news holos spewed, anyway.

"Why do you have to go? Surely the entire holo crew is frothing at the mouth to cover the fifth Empire Day celebration."

"Oh, they are. But it's not because of the parade. It's because Palpatine's second is going to be in attendance."

"Tarkin?"

"No, not Tarkin. The apprentice." _That_ piqued Asajj's interest. She snapped her head around to meet Obi-Wan's eyes.

"Well, then, Master Jedi, what do you propose?" Obi-Wan smiled in a way that made Asajj glad for the Galaxy's sake that the man was such a _Jedi._

"I propose we do a little reconnaissance."

* * *

Obi-Wan pushed his way through the gathering crowds around the parade route, waving his media pass like a riot shield in front of him. Ventress followed him, slipping through the spaces he created. The path to Coronet's main square was choked with fervent Imperial citizens, craning for a glimpse at Palpatine's Sith apprentice. Obi-Wan, too, was curious to see what Sidious had come up with as a substitute for the Chosen One.

Distracted as he was, Obi-Wan jumped at the hand that clamped around his shoulder. Reaching for the knife in his boot, Obi-Wan whipped around to see an oddly familiar face, though it was one he hadn't seen in a very long time.

"Ferus Olin?"

The former Jedi Padawan merely raised an eyebrow, and said,

"Come with me, both of you. I need to talk to you."

Olin led them down several side streets, finally stopping in an empty alleyway.

"First of all, how?" he asked, eyes hard.

"I wasn't anywhere near the clones when they turned." He'd been at Dex's, actually, doing a favor for Quinlan Vos.

"Alright." Apparently, Olin accepted the answer because he turned his glare on Ventress. "Who are you?"

"No one you need to know anything about, Jedi." she snapped.

"Yeah, no." Olin shot back. "You're Force sensitive, and your signature's dark. The only reason I'm not killing you now is that Master Kenobi seems to be tolerating your presence." Ventress grinned at that, and Obi-Wan intervened before she spoke again.

"She's an ally. We're no friend of the Sith, Ferus." He let the truth of his words bleed into the Force for a second before locking his shields back down.

"Are there others?" asked the young man. Obi-Wan knew what he meant. He sighed.

"Yes, a few." Ferus' face crumpled in relief at that.

"I-I thought I was the only one." He said, his voice breaking. Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder.

"You are not alone, Ferus. Now, did you just grab us to catch up?" He could sense the answer, and Ferus confirmed it, shaking his head.

"No. I'm here for the same reason you two were, I suspect. Listen, Master Kenobi, there's a movement-"

"We know," he cut in. "The Alliance. Senator Organa was the man who got us off of Coruscant after 66."

Ferus looked like he wanted to ask what exactly "us" meant, but he let it go, opting instead for a scowl.

"Bastard never told me you were alive. He might have at least mentioned it." Then, brightening, he continued, "Anyway, I'm here on Alliance business, to get a read on the Sith from a force sensitive perspective."

"What do you think so far?" asked Ventress with a sneer. Olin glared at her, and answered rather primly,

"He hasn't gotten within my range yet." Ventress' smirk only got wider.

"Pathetic." She muttered. Then, over Ferus' outraged cry, "His Dark Side power is rooted in anger. He has something to prove. I sense he's trying to make Sidious believe he's worthy of being his apprentice." She snorted. "Good luck with that. Doesn't matter if he's the Dark Side version of the Chosen One, no one's good enough for that creature." Shuddering at the thought of a Dark Side Chosen One, Obi-Wan turned to Ventress.

"You can sense him that clearly? All I've got is a vague sense of darkness." She nodded sharply.

"What can I say, I'm talented."

Olin frowned, arms crossing over his chest. The evening shadows in the alley made the gold streaks in his dark hair stand out even more than usual.

"That's interesting. Can you tell how strong he is?" The Rattataki nodded again, scowling this time.

"He's stronger than me, anyway. Maybe on par with Dooku, but nothing like Sidious himself."

Ferus's eyebrows came down into a worried frown. The leather in his jacket creaked as he crossed his arms tighter, muscles clenching.

"Organa's not gonna like that." Obi-Wan nodded.

"Mm," he agreed. "Dooku was extremely difficult to beat, and that was when the Order still existed, and was backed by an army." Suddenly struck by curiosity, Obi-Wan looked over at the former Jedi. "How is the Alliance? I haven't been able to stay in touch with anyone, unfortunately."

Ferus shrugged, finally uncrossing his arms.

"It's got potential. After Mon Mothma ran for it, she joined up, and apparently Chandrila and Alderaan are safe havens in the Inner Core for Alliance sympathizers. There are several Rebel cells in the Outer Rim, even a few in the Mid Rim. We don't have much in the way of manpower, but the Empire tried to assassinate Jan Dodonna last month, and he approached us about joining afterwards. I guess he was some big shot in the Clone Wars?" Obi-Wan nodded, impressed.

"Yes, he was a war hero. He commanded the Republic forces at the Battle of Andaxes. Master Plo always spoke very highly of him."

Obi-Wan stamped down hard on the grief that welled up, pressing his lips together. Even five years later, thinking of his friends hurt. Ferus looked at him, eyes full of sympathy, but Obi-Wan didn't acknowledge him. He didn't want to talk about it. He probably never would.

"Right," said Ferus, looking awkward. "Thanks for the intel." This was directed at Ventress, who, to Obi-Wan's immense surprise, smiled and shrugged rather than sniping at him. Ferus offered her a smile in return, then clapped Obi-Wan on the shoulder. "I'm pushing my luck more and more with every minute I'm here, or I'd stay and catch up. As it is, I'd better take off." His gaze darted to the ground, then back to Obi-Wan, an odd combination of pride and contrition in his brown eyes. "Hey, Obi-Wan-I-I'm sorry. About your Padawan." The former Jedi's fists were clenched, his shoulders tight with tension. Recognizing the words for what they were, Obi-Wan nodded, still not trusting himself to speak.

Without another word, Ferus brushed past Ventress and walked back toward the main square and the crowds of parade-goers.

Obi-Wan looked over at Ventress. She shrugged.

"Well," she said, "that was certainly more interesting than playing dejarik and doing shots, wasn't it?"

* * *

A/N: Unexpected Ventrobi trash. Don't blame me, blame the utterly ridiculous amount of sexual tension between them on TCW. Comments are nice, 'mkay?


	14. Now, THIS is Podracing

12 BBY, Mos Eisley, Tatooine

Kin Starseeker was jerked out of a deep meditative trance by a white-hot blast of _deathpainterror_ in the Force. He spat several Huttese curses between his teeth and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead, trying to ground himself amid the echoes of thousands of dead Jedi.

The chrono on the floor next to him indicated it was almost dawn. He'd been under for nearly 9 hours. It was no wonder he'd stumbled across one of the death echoes that now swirled around in the Force's undercurrents. It was too late to go to sleep now, so he got up instead, grimacing as blood rushed back into his legs. He didn't bother to turn on the lights in the little hut, merely let the Force guide him around the mechanical detritus that was pretty much always strewn across the floor. He only stepped on one piece of mechanical plating between the sofa and the caf machine, which was pretty good, for having the beginnings of a truly awful headache inhibiting his focus.

Neither Obi-Wan not Padmé had ever managed to make him into a neat person, despite their best efforts.

He was watching the suns rise when a soft, clumsy prod at his consciousness told him that Leia was awake. The seven year old girl came in a few moments later, blinking sleepily. It was mostly his imagination, but he thought his headache lessened as he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her dark head.

"How's my little Princess this morning, huh?" Leia, who was most definitely not a morning person, didn't answer, just snuffled grumpily into his shoulder. Kin couldn't help but laugh at her sleepy grumping. "Does this mean you don't want to go today?" he asked. The result was immediate. The little girl leaned back, crossing her arms.

"Don't be silly, Daddy!" she said, looking haughty. In fact, she looked so much like her mother that his heart twisted just a little. When he didn't react, her eyes widened in alarm. "We're still gonna go, right?"

"Sure, Princess," he said, tugging gently on the end of her braid, "long as you're not too tired." The haughty look returned in full force.

"I'm _not_!"

Despite her grumbling, Leia was good the rest of the morning. Or, she was good by his standards. She still flicked pieces of cracker at him across the table, but that was practically a game between them now. (Padmé was going to be horrified in a few years) Kin watched her out of the corner of his eye as he washed up the breakfast dishes. He was constantly amazed at her, at even the smallest things she did. She could levitate things with the Force when she concentrated, face all screwed up, and he wondered if he'd ever looked so funny while learning. He probably had. She was headstrong and stubborn as well, set in her ways. She reminded him a lot of himself, actually. It made him in equal parts proud and worried. And she was only seven. So small and fragile that in his less rational moments he didn't want to let her outside. He knew, from the holos in her house on Naboo, that Leia looked almost exactly like Padmé had as a girl, all brown curls, skinny limbs and round cheeks.

She was his entire universe, here on Tatooine. Without her in his life, he wasn't entirely sure he'd still be sane, after seven years of living on his homeworld again. The memories were sometimes stong enough to shut him down as it was. Leia brought out an inner strength he'd been unable to find in his entire career as a Jedi.

How ironic, that his personal attachments were what had finally made him a good Jedi, years after the Order's destruction.

The Boonta Eve Classic was still the premiere social event of the year on Tatooine. Kin had to maneuver around thousands of beings in order to park their old landspeeder. As he lifted Leia from her seat and set her on the hard packed sand, he spotted a Toydarian he recognized as Watto in the entrance to the Pod garage, yelling at a Dug Pod Jockey. Either betting on him or he owned the pod. Kin rolled his eyes.

Leia was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. She'd asked to come to the races nearly three months ago, after hearing her older friends talk about how exciting it was. Kin had been hesitant at first, but really, there would be nothing going on that Leia hadn't seen before, up to and including fatal crashes. Tatooine wasn't exactly conducive to sheltered childhoods. He did feel for his mother though, as his daughter watched a pair of Squibs lunge for each other, shrieking obscenities in Huttese. She understood them too, she'd grown up speaking more Huttese than Basic, though she knew both. Yes, Padmé was going to be beside herself.

Somehow, he doubted Luke knew what "Dopo me gusha, loca kark?" meant, let alone "E chu ta."

There was a good two hours before the race was supposed to start, so Kin decided to show Leia the pods. So long as you didn't touch the engines, most racers were happy to show off their machines to anyone who was interested. Leia stared in open-mouthed adoration at a bright blue pod, attached to enormous, flanged engines. The racer, a small Selonian, looked over from where she was checking her plasma coupling.

"Like what you see, Pinky?" she asked. Leia grinned and nodded. Kin gave the pod engines a critical once over.

"Did you build this?" he asked. The Selonian ran one paw through the fur atop her head and laughed.

"Fierfek, no!" she exclaimed. "This is one of Sebulba's pods. He rents 'em out for races he's not entered in." She cocked her head at Kin's grin. "What's so funny?" Kin shrugged.

"Nothing. Your pod just looks like one of his I saw a few years ago."

"Oh yeah," she shrugged. "No-one's ever said that Dug was original. You'd think after the time he lost to a nine-year-old, he'd have maybe changed his design, but you'd be wrong. Still, it works, and that's more than can be said for most of the junk out here." Leia's jaw dropped.

"A nine-year-old?!" she squeaked.

"Yeah," said the racer. "Folks around here are still talkin' about it, and it happened more than ten years ago now. Right now, that idiot's trying to win bets by sayin' his pod's got the same engines the kid's did." She gestured across the way, at another racer. Leia looked over.

"Are they?" She asked.

Kin rather doubted it. He'd built the engines from nothing, after all; they'd been one of a kind.

The Selonian snorted.

"As if." She said scornfully. "No, Mareq's just a lying sack of bantha poodoo." Leia giggled.

"Come on, Princess." said Kin. "We need to go if we're gonna find seats." His daughter nodded, but turned to the Selonian racer before joining him.

"Good luck!" she said, with a wide smile. The Selonian's ears wriggled, in the species' own version of the expression.

"Thanks, kid."

* * *

The podrace was the most exciting thing Leia had ever seen, _ever._ The Selonian racer came in second, which Leia thought was pretty neat, because she'd been nice and nice beings hardly ever got ahead on Tatooine. Dad was grinning as they left, too, which was also great, because Dad was hardly ever happy. All in all, it was pretty much the best day of Leia's life.

"Dad?" she asked, as the landspeeder shot across the empty desert between the racetrack and Mos Eisley. He looked over, face tinted red through her goggles.

"Yeah, Princess?"

"Can we practice with the Force when we get home?" It was one of her favorite things to do, but they didn't do it very often. Dad never answered when she asked why, he just said it was dangerous. To her surprise and excitement, though, Dad nodded.

"Sure." he said, almost too soft to hear over the engines and the wind.

Leia spent the rest of the speeder ride bouncing up and down in her seat, too excited to sit still. By the time Dad cut the engines in front of their house, Leia was imagining herself lifting the whole city of Mos Eisley with the Force. She wondered if even Dad could do that. Probably. Dad could do anything.

"Wait here, okay?" he said after she climbed out of the speeder. "I need to go check for transmissions." Leia, who was used to this, just nodded. Dad had super-important friends out in the galaxy somewhere that sometimes needed his help with different things. Leia didn't really understand it, but she heard the words "Rebellion" and "Emperor" a lot the one time she listened in.

Dad hated the Empire. She wasn't sure why, and she'd never asked, because she didn't think she wanted to know. But every year on Empire Day, which was only three days before her birthday, Dad was quiet and angry and sad, which was weird. Not the angry and sad part, because Dad was angry and sad a lot, but the quiet part was weird. Normally, Dad was loud and teasing and goofy, but on Empire Day, he was just quiet. Leia didn't like it. She'd decided a long time ago that she hated the Empire too, for whatever they'd done to make her dad like he was.

Just after he disappeared, the two boys across the street came running over. Leia sighed. D'nai was her best friend, but his brother Naren was mean.

"Hey, Leia!" yelled D'nai, skidding to a stop in front of her. "Did you really go to Boonta Eve?" Even Naren's scowling presence couldn't keep the smile off of her face at the memory.

"Yeah!" she said. "It was amazing, just like you said! I even met a racer! Dad said-" Naren interrupted her.

"Kriff, would you stop bragging for one second?" he asked, glaring at her. "If I have to hear one more time how your dad is the greatest ever I'm gonna puke." Leia glared at the older boy.

"I wasn't talking to you." she snapped, "D'nai asked me a question, and I answered it."

"Ooh, look at you, acting like you're something special. What do you think you are, some kinda princess?" Leia crossed her arms, anger turning red behind her eyes. "Well, I got news for you, kid, you can't be a princess with some desert mech for a dad and a dead backwoods tramp for a-" He didn't get to finish, because Leia launched herself into his stomach, knocking him into the sand. After that, there was only red, until a big hand grabbed the back of her tunic and pulled her off of the older boy, and _disappointmentworryannoyed_ cut through the red rage in her head.

"Apologize." was all Dad said as he set her back on the sand. He didn't let go of the back of her tunic, either. Leia furrowed her small brows and glared up at him, but there was no softness in his eyes, only hard blue durasteel, so she turned her glare on Naren.

"Sorry." she grumbled, not meaning it. Naren said nothing, just scrambled to his feet and turned away. She couldn't see very well through the grit in her eyes, but she thought he looked a little afraid.

Good. If he was afraid of her, maybe he'd stop being so mean all the kriffing time. Dad's hand, the durasteel one, tightened around her tunic, enough to make her squirm.

* * *

"So," said Dad, after locking the door and washing the worst of the sand from Leia's face. He dropped the rag onto the kitchen table, then knelt down so that their faces were at the same height. "Want to tell me what that was about?" His voice was soft, but that didn't mean he wasn't mad. She shrugged.

"He was being mean." She looked right at him, not afraid. Well, maybe a little afraid, but she wasn't going to show it. Dad nodded slowly, then raised an eyebrow, scar stretching.

"Mmmmhm. What did we say about anger, Young One?" Leia sighed. He only ever called her that when she'd really messed up, or when he was teaching her about the Force.

"That it's just an emotion and we can never, ever let it control us." she muttered. "But Dad, he was saying awful things about Mom." At that, Dad canted his head to the side. His face was still closed off and impassive, but a tiny thread of hope wormed its way into Leia's mind.

"What did he say?" he asked, voice even.

"He said she was a backwoods tramp." said Leia. All of a sudden, her anger gave way to something that was frighteningly like fear. Leia hated being afraid. In a small voice, she asked, "Was she?" Dad's hard mask finally cracked open at that, and he looked stricken.

"No, of course not." he whispered. Then, louder, "She was beautiful, and strong, and the kindest person I ever knew." He placed a hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him. "Leia, your mom was an angel."

Her eyes were stinging from the sand, and she could tell from the look on his face that she was still in trouble, but she felt better all the same.

"You always say that." she muttered,trying not to grin. Dad just shrugged.

Come one, Young One," he said, standing up. "I think today's a good day to learn a little control over your emotions, hm?"

What Leia wanted to do was practice moving things and mind tricks, but she knew better than to push her luck, so she just nodded.

"Right," said Dad, crossing to the two sand-colored mats in the corner. Leia grabbed the smaller one and sat down on it, crossing her legs. "Let's start by calming down, okay? Watch me." Leia nodded, and watched. Dad took a deep breath, and the Force shifted around her. Suddenly she could feel worry coming through their bond, clammy against her own mind. Underneath it was a layer of icy fear. As she watched, though, they bled away, trailing off into the currents of energy around them. As the last bits disappeared, Dad opened his eyes.

"Now you try," he said, "Feel your anger. Acknowledge it and accept it, then let it go. Send it off into the Force."

Leia closed her eyes. She summoned Naren's face and his words, and the anger came with them, red and hot in her mind. She pushed at it, sending it away. Some of it went, and the rest was chased out by a wash of cool calm from Dad. She opened her eyes.

"Not bad, Young One." he said, and reached across the space to ruffle her hair. Out of habit, she smacked at his hand and smoothed it back down, grinning. Dad smiled too, and said, "I want you to practice this week, alright? When you get annoyed, or angry or afraid, practice releasing it." Leia nodded. Through their bond, she felt Dad rearrange his shields, blocking most of his feelings and all of his thoughts. Leia couldn't shield yet, Dad said she was too young to learn. As they rolled the mats back up, Leia remembered something from the lesson.

"When you were showing me how to release my feelings." she said, looking up at him. "Why were you afraid?" Dad's shoulders went stiff, and it was a long time before he answered.

"Do you know why it's important for you to keep a hold on your feelings?" he asked. Leia didn't. Over the years, she'd learned that Dad hardly ever explained things like that. She shook her head. Dad nodded. "I didn't think so." he said, and there was something like sadness under his voice. "You and I, we're different from other beings. You know that, right?" Leia nodded. She'd wondered, when she was little, why Granny Mirilba never knew what she wanted like Dad did, without her even having to say so.

"Because of the Force." she said. Dad nodded again.

"We are Force-sensitive, but the Force is also sensitive to us. Does that make sense?" Seeing her nod, he continued. "That means that when we get angry or scared, the Force reacts to that. When you use the Force out of anger, when you let your emotions control you, you can end up hurting people, more than a non-Force sensitive would." Suddenly, Leia could hear screams around her, and a faint, metallic scent of blood hung in the air for just a moment before it disappeared. "It's called the Dark Side, when a person lets their anger or fear control their Force-use. People who fall to the Dark Side lose who they are, they'd turn on their own best friend."

"They turn evil?" asked Leia, horrified.

"Yes," said Dad, reaching out and placing a hand on her knee, "They give up everything for power and become a shell of their former selves." This time, she could see, very clearly, a black cloaked creature with burning yellow eyes and black tattoos zigzagging across his face. He carried a blood red blade, and his presence was icecolddark and _wrong_ , lightyears away from Dad's _brightsunfirewarm_ presence beside her. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

Dad took a deep, shuddering breath as the vision faded, then continued,

"I was afraid, little Princess, because you reminded me of myself today, when you hit Naren. You weren't wrong to be angry, but you let it get the better of you." Leia looked down at the floor, shame turning her cheeks red and hot.

"I'm sorry, _Apa._ she murmured. Dad lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his.

I'm proud of you, and I love you more than anything in the Galaxy, _shisa."_ He pulled her close, and she tucked her head into his chest, breathing in his engine-oil, dust, and tea-spice scent. "But you're also a Force-user, and you have to learn to release your anger and your fear, or they will hurt you, and other beings, too."

The truth of his words rang through the Force, and she knew he spoke from experience.

Two days later, when Imperial stormtroopers ran a standard check for "Seditionist and Rebel Propaganda," Leia closed her eyes and let her anger fade away into the Force, even after one trooper muttered something about "lizard-eating abos" then casually knocked Dad's spices onto the floor, spilling dried tufi and fierfa flowers everywhere.

She felt nothing more than a little annoyance from Dad, but his shields were even tighter than normal, and his durasteel fingers were twitching.

She wondered, for the first time, how he knew so much about anger and fear.

* * *

A/N: Can you tell how much I love Anakin and Leia having an actual relationship yet? Also Tatooine.

'Apa' and 'Shisa' mean 'dad' and 'my girl', respectively, in the language I made up for Shmi Skywalker's people. Shmi is a native Tatooinian. Fight me, Canon.

"Dopo me gusha, loca kark?": "Do you feel lucky, crazy fuck?"

Comments make me happy


	15. Lord Malefus is a Terrible Boss

14 BBY, Coruscant, the Top Floor of Imperial Center

Imperial Special Operations Command Agent Niro Arana's hands were steady as he pressed play on the holorecording. This was a remarkable feat, as far as Niro was concerned, considering what was playing and who he was playing it for.

The holo was good quality, likely from a helmet cam, and it showed the events in devastating clarity. Even Moff Vizer's strangled yelp of surprise had been captured. As the smoke cleared, the cam shifted, smoothly panning around Keldabe City Center, highlighting first the panicked chaos on the stage as Imperial officials dove for cover and stormtroopers searched for the sniper, then the datascreens behind the stage, all of which had been sliced into and coaxed into displaying either the sigil of the Grand Army of the Republic or, more importantly, the winged blade of the Jedi Order. It was all very artistic, actually, and Arana would have been impressed at the rebels' vision, had he not been watching Lord Malefus' reaction.

This would be the only time in the agent's life that he was grateful for the darkness of the Imperial Throne Room. At least he couldn't see the Emperor's face, other than a spot of white in the oppressive darkness.

"I assume I am correct in the assumption that this has been authenticated." said the cloaked figure on the throne, voice soft and cracked. Arana forced his eyes away from the offending holo, which had frozen on the Jedi's sigil. A female voice spoke over the image, full of fiery rhetoric about the evils of the Empire.

"Yes, M'lord," said Arana, snapping to attention. "It looped for nearly six hours following the attack before technicians were able to take it down." He swallowed hard. The debacle hadn't been his, or anyone's fault, but someone was going to pay for it. Of that, Arana was certain.

"This is a problem, Agent Arana." said the Emperor. "The Empire cannot have insurgents and terrorists threatening the security of its systems." He turned his head towards the room's other occupant. "Lord Malefus, your next assignment is this: Track down these terrorists and bring them to me. I sense there is more to these Mandalorian insurgents than it seems." Malefus dropped to one knee and bowed his head in apparent acknowledgement.

"Agent Arana-" continued the Emperor, not acknowledging the kneeling man. Arana swallowed again, and drew himself up yet again, bracing for whatever would come out of the man's (if he even was a man, Arana wasn't sure) mouth next. "-you will assist Lord Malefus in his mission. Your position with the ISOC will be most advantageous, I am certain."

To say that Arana was surprised would have been a massive understatement. Rather, it was all the young agent could do to keep his jaw in place.

"Y-yes, M'lord." With a waved hand, they were dismissed. Malefus rose and stalked past Arana, who pivoted on one foot and followed, immensely relieved to be leaving the throne room. The turbo lift was lit with bright white lumas, and Arana had to squint until his eyes adjusted. His new superior seemed content to simply stand in silence, so Arana did as well, still wondering how he'd managed to convert a major embarrassment for the Empire into anything other than a dishonorable discharge.

He hadn't found an answer by the time that Malefus swept to a halt at his office door.

"Well then," he said. His voice was very soft, with a slight Corellian accent. "It seems we're going to be working together." Arana nodded, trying furiously to swallow past the nervous lump in his throat. For Kark's sake, the man practically _radiated_ power. It wasn't even close to fair. Malefus unlocked the office door, and gestured for Arana to enter. He did so, hyperaware of the being behind him. Malefus walked past him and dropped into the black synthleather desk chair.

"Where do you propose we start, Agent?" he asked, placing his lightsaber on the desk's smooth black surface.

"Ah-" Arana coughed, trying to clear his throat. "I think we should start with the voice at the end of the holorecording, M'lord. It's likely just a stock voice manipulated to say what they wanted, but there's always a chance it's not." Malefus looked him up and down, golden eyes appraising. Eventually, he smiled. It did nothing to ease Arana's nerves.

"Yes, I believe that's a good strategy, Agent-Arana, was it?" Arana nodded. The other man pulled the holo up again, fast forwarding until the woman began speaking.

"Identify vocal patterns and crosscheck with Imperial databases. Keyword Mandalore." The computer interface hummed as it worked, then spit back a picture and a name: Aayla Hardeen. Arana leaned forward.

"I know her!" he exclaimed. Malefus' head snapped up, fixing him with a sharp stare.

"Do elaborate." he said.

"I recognize her from the old Clone Wars holoreels. She's a Jedi-or at least an apprentice."

Another smile curled Malefus' lips.

"This job just became worth my time, Agent. I thank you. Might you remember which holoreels you remember her from?"

"Y-yes, I know she was in the coverage of the second Battle of Geonosis." Malefus grinned even wider, then typed a few commands into his datapad. A few moments later, the holoreels from Geonosis began playing. It had been largely staged, Arana knew, but the reporters had also interviewed the Jedi generals present, in this case, Luminara Unduli and Anakin Skywalker. At the sight of Skywalker, Malefus' good humor seemed to evaporate. He muted the recording, glaring at the long-dead Jedi Knights. Arana, though, had found what he'd been looking for.

"There," he said, stabbing a finger into the recording, towards the young Togruta girl in the background. Malefus paused the holo, then zoomed in on her face. "That's her."

"A Padawan." murmured Malefus, half to himself. "But whose?"

"I believe she was Skywalker's Padawan, M'lord." said Arana. He'd been a teenager during the Clone Wars, and before their betrayal, he'd seen the Jedi as heroes. He remembered the girl, though not her real name (it wasn't Aayla Hardeen, of that he was certain) from the holos, always standing just behind Skywalker. The reporters had never talked to her, to teenaged Arana's disappointment. He'd felt a strange sort of connection to the Togruta girl, so close to his own age.

"So," said Malefus, sitting back in his chair. "It would seem that a former Jedi Padawan is part of an insurgent cell on Mandalore."

"Indeed, M'lord. What shall we do next?" Malefus bared his teeth again, but no sane being would have called it a smile.

"Next, Agent Arana, you'll be traveling to Mandalore. It seems rude to keep this Jedi and her former master separated, don't you think?"

* * *

10 BBY, Mandalore, Capital City of Mandalore

Ram Arana, Commander in His Imperial Majesty's Intelligence Forces, was entirely tired of being laughed at today, thank you very much. Unfortunately, the only being in the Galaxy who laughed at him on a regular basis was his direct superior, Lord Malefus, so there wasn't much he could do about it, other than drink or write hate-poetry, neither of which he was desperate enough to do just yet.

Sighing, the Intelligence officer shut his comm off and sat back in his chair. Reluctantly, he turned his mind away from how much he'd like to punch the ever-present smirk off his boss' face, and back to the problem at hand.

There were seven of them, at least according to his spy network. Seven sentients, four of whom should be long-dead, were currently causing at least 90% of Arana's problems. They were just so damn effective, and the entire West End of Keldabe seemed content to hide their locations from Imperial forces. No amount of raiding or threatening had managed to flush these insurgents (because Malefus wouldn't let him call them rebels, oh no) out of hiding. And Arana had led plenty of raids and done a lot of threatening over the past three years. To make matters worse, some of the graffiti they'd scrawled across public buildings had the immature feel of teenagers. Arana, with all his Academy training, was being thoroughly outsmarted by _children_. It was mortifying. Even worse, sometimes, Arana wasn't sure they were wrong, either. It was hard to hate beings who hadn't hurt a civilian in at least three years of open rebellion against the Empire. Not to mention, Arana had read all that graffiti and listened to the Padawan's speech from Empire Day more times than he'd like to admit.

And, well, he'd never met a Jedi, but somehow, he doubted they'd carried an oppressive aura of fear with them wherever they went, traitors or not.

His comm went off then, pulling his mind away from his disturbing thoughts.

"What is it?" he snapped, harsher than he'd meant.

"Ah-apologies, Sir. One of our tax patrols just called for reinforcements. They've been hit by the insurgents."

"Good. Prep my speeder and get me some men."

Maybe this time he'd actually manage to catch the bastards. He was extremely curious as to what they might have to say.

* * *

2 Minutes Earlier, Mandalore, Capital City of Keldabe

As she lay flat against the low rooftop, waiting for the expected patrol, Ko-Iri couldn't help but be a little nervous. Despite more than three years of experience in ruining the Empire's day, she still felt the weight of what they'd do to her if they ever caught her. Not much was known about Imperial interrogations, but the little there was seemed to indicate that it was not pleasant.

And it would be doubly worse for her, a creche-raised Jedi Youngling. She wondered, sometimes, whether it might have been a better option to stay on Dagobah with Master Yoda, as he'd offered. She loved her friends, of course, they were like brothers, and Ahsoka was the coolest being in the Galaxy, as far as Ko-Iri was concerned, but all the same, at her core, she was 16 and the Empire was terrifying.

"Domino 7, are you in position?" Rex's voice crackled in her ear.

"Yes, Domino 2, we are good to go up top." she responded, pushing her apprehension into the Force, like Ahsoka had taught her. This was a mission, her fears had no place on it.

Down on the street, the Imperial patrol was in view, a standard squad in formation around two Imperial tax collectors.

"Domino 7 to Domino Squad, it's a standard patrol. I see six bucket heads and an officer." she said.

"Roger that, Domino 7. Standby for signal to fire." That was Ahsoka. Ko-Iri couldn't see her Master, but she knew roughly where she was, and trained her eyes on the next street, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long. Barely a minute later, there was an almighty roar and a blast of light from the street as the thermal detonators went off. The Stormtroopers scattered, sprinting towards the blast site, as Ahsoka and Zatt appeared in the square. Ko-Iri could hear the Nautolan's shout from her perch.

"Down with Palpatine! Restore the Republic!"

That was her cue. Taking careful aim, Ko-Iri shot. The bolt burned through the officer's chest and he dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. As the troopers took off after Ahsoka and Zatt, who'd shot down the nearest side street, Rex and Jesse stepped out from a crowd of cowering civilians, and crept up behind the tax men, who were staring in horror at the dead officer. Ko-Iri leapt down from the roof, landing in a crouch on the permacrete. She jogged up to the tax collectors as Rex and Jesse pressed blasters to their backs.

Ko-Iri did her best to glare menacingly around at the onlookers. As always, they were masked, only their eyes visible.

"Right, then," said Jesse. "We'll be taking your tax revenues off your hands, if you please."

"Put 'em on the ground, slowly." added Rex. The tax collectors exchanged glances, but did as their captors ordered, dropping the cases they carried.

"You terrorist scum won't get away with this." snapped the taller man. "We've already called for reinforcements. Your reign of terror in this city is over." Rex snorted.

"Our reign of terror? Notice how none of these people are trying to help you. I don't think we're the ones they want gone." Just then, Ko-Iri heard the sounds of boots on the ground.

"We need to go. Now." she hissed.

"Kreth." muttered Jesse. "They're getting faster." As if to make his point, the reinforcements burst into the square from all sides, surrounding the three rebels.

"You are under arrest by order of the Emperor. Lay down your weapons and you will not be harmed."

Beside her, Rex swore.

"Any ideas, Kid?" asked Jesse out of the corner of his mouth. Ko-Iri took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Yeah." she said, and thrust her hands out, flinging the troopers backwards. Rex and Jesse took the opportunity and ran, Ko-Iri bringing up the rear, dodging stun bolts as she sprinted for better cover.

"They must have known we'd hit that patrol." said Jesse as they ducked into an alley. "No way Imps are just that fast."

"Yeah. I'd say you're right." Rex punched their comm frequency.

"Domino 1, did you get away clean?"

Only static answered him.

"E chu ta!" hissed the clone Captain. "We have to go to ground."

Ko-Iri skidded to a stop in front of Keldabe's open air market, which, at this hour, was packed with beings. She stripped off her mask and dropped it and the sniper rifle into a dumpster. Rex did the same.

"Come on." she said, turning to the market. "We can blend in." She ducked between two Rodians, slipping into the throngs of Mando'a and other sentients. Rex and Jesse followed her through the crowds, stopping every now and then to pretend to examine goods for sale. As Ko-Iri picked up a meiloorun and turned it over in her hands, three Stormtroopers entered the market square.

"Keep it cool." muttered Rex, placing his hand on her shoulder. Mentally cursing herself, Ko-Iri forced the tension from her muscles, trying her best to look like a normal teenager who hadn't just murdered an Imperial officer.

They almost made it. The three Stormtroopers were turning to leave the square when Rex's comm beeped and Kix's voice crackled over the channel.

"Domino 2, what is your location?" Rex clapped his palm over the wrist comm, muffling it, but it was too late. The troopers turned around. Ko-Iri glanced around, dismayed. There was no room to maneuver.

They were effectively trapped.

"Take her and go!" snapped Rex, shoving Ko-Iri at the other clone. Jesse's fist clenched for a split second, but he grabbed her wrist and took off, shoving housewives aside. Shots rang out as they dove into an alley.

"We have to get off the streets!" she hissed, searching the alleyway for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Her gaze caught on a sewer cover.

"There!"

"You're kidding." said Jesse, eyeing the cover.

"Do you have a better idea? They'll be after us any second now!" Jesse muttered something that sounded like "Krething Jedi and their damn fool ideas", but he followed her to the sewer cover. Reaching out to the Force, Ko-Iri lifted the heavy durasteel plate from the pipe's opening. Jesse leapt inside, and she followed, pulling the cover back into place before sliding down the ladder rungs. She hit the filthy water at the bottom with a splash.

"Urgh!" gasped Jesse, pressing his hand to his nose.

"Hey, at least you've got a scarf!" she muttered, but she couldn't argue with the sentiment.

Immediate crisis averted, Ko-Iri's mind started to stray to dangerous places.

"Jesse?" she asked, voice echoing in the cavernous space. He looked down at her, so she continued.

"Did Master Tano get captured?" The man sighed.

"I don't know, Kid. I wish I did, believe me."

Unbidden, the Temple came to Ko-Iri's mind, hallways choked with smoke and cloaked bodies. Today, more than ever, brought home the fate that awaited the Jedi, awaited her, if they were ever caught.

* * *

Ahsoka woke up in a bare, gray room, furnished with a durasteel table and matching chair. She reached instinctively for the Force, trying to clear the fuzziness from her mind, and immediately regretted it as a low-level electric pulse shot up her arms.

Kriff, she hated Force-binders. For a moment longer, she was confused, wondering how she'd gotten here when just a minute ago, she'd been home, at Five's. It came back in a rush of images, the square, the tax patrol-a decoy, she'd realized too late-the platoon of troopers in the next street. Then the stun bolts, and-

No.

The boys had been taken too, they had to have been. Talented as they were, they couldn't take out an entire platoon. A horrible feeling of foreboding washed over Ahsoka Tano as the door opened, and an officer walked in, his stars marking him as a Commander.

"Good evening, Miss. Tano, isn't it?" Ahsoka shrugged. She'd already failed enough today, she wasn't about to give the Empire anything. The Commander shook his head, brows sinking a fraction of an inch. "First off, Miss Tano, this will go much easier for the both of us if you cooperate. After all, I shouldn't like to hurt your young companions, but rest assured, I will. Now, once again, your name is Ahsoka Tano, yes?"

This time, Ahsoka nodded. The officer smiled, and she felt a strong urge to smash his head into the table.

"Thank you. My name is Commander Niro Arana. I must say, Miss Tano, it is a pleasure to finally meet you." Ahsoka kept still. Arana snorted. "This act of yours is ridiculous. I already know of your past. You are a Jedi Padawan, formerly apprenticed to Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. You deserted the Jedi Order approximately 11 months before the end of the Clone Wars. Am I correct?"

"Yes." she said, fists clenching under the table. How did he-no. It didn't matter how he knew, only that he did.

"Right, then. Might I ask, Padawan Tano, why you've felt the need to conduct a terrorist campaign here in Keldabe?"

"I don't know what you mean." she said, widening her eyes. "I'm just a thief. That tax patrol was too hard to pass up." she gave him a sweet smile.

"Mm." said Arana. "I'm sure. You know, that stunt your team pulled three years ago was very impressive. Indeed, had I not been in the presence of a superior when viewing the footage, I might have laughed. I assume your intent was to embarrass the Mandalorian regime, yes?"

"I remember that." she said. "It was some kind of explosion at the parade, wasn't it? I'd heard Governor Vizer lost his title over it." She shrugged. "Never liked him much."

"You are an impressive liar, Padawan Tano." he said, before leaning across the table.

"I wonder, will your young companions prove to be as good at it?" Ahsoka leaned forward too, so that their faces were a fraction of an inch apart.

"You'd better hope I don't get out of here, Commander." she whispered. "I don't like it when people threaten my friends, and you've done it twice now." Arana smiled.

You must forgive me, Padawan Tano." he said. "But I do have superiors to answer to."

"I don't give a flying kreth about your superiors." snapped Ahsoka, incensed. "That's a nerf shit excuse, anyway, unless you've been programmed from birht to-" she broke off, her anger giving way to fear. Stupid, that had been stupid. Arana, unfortunately, had caught her slip. His brows came down in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing." she said, determined not to make another mistake.

"No, that wasn't nothing." he muttered, to himself, it seemed.

And then, to Ahsoka's shock, the Imperial officer stood, crossed to the corner of the room, reached up, and turned the droidcam off.

* * *

"What the kark are you doing?"

Asking himself a similar question, Arana turned back to the Togruta woman. Her white brow markings were raised, and she'd started tapping one fingernail on the table's surface. Arana reclaimed his seat.

"Now then, you have no fear of incriminating any of your allies." he said, spreading his arms in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture. "You said programming. Are you talking about the Grand Army of the Republic?"

"I told you, Imp, it was nothing. Just a joke." her eyes were hard, face closed off.

"And I told you, I don't believe you." he snapped, tired of her attitude. "We have very little time before there are troops in here wondering why I've shut the cam off. I've taken a very big risk here. At the least, I'm going to lose my position. The least you could do is tell the truth." At this, her jaw dropped and her eyes flashed with blue fury.

"Oh? The least I could do, huh? I owe you nothing, Imperial." She said the word like it was the worst insult she could think of. "You don't know anything about truth."

"Then tell me." he said simply. Her eyes widened, then immediately narrowed again.

"You want to know so bad? Fine. Your precious Emperor exterminated my friends, my people like karking womp rats and he enslaved a whole race to do it." Her voice, when she began to speak, was controlled and quiet, but as she continued, it roughened into a snarl worthy of her predatory species. Behind the anger though, there was pain, and a burning conviction that always, in Arana's experience, meant she believed what she was saying. What that meant, Arana didn't really want to think about, but he did so all the same.

"The official Imperial stance is that your people were traitors, deserving of death." he said carefully.

"And all the clones who ate their own blasters after the Emperor declared himself?" she asked. "That sound like soldiers executing traitors, or men betraying people who trusted them?"

She was right. Arana had always been interested in the Clone Wars, and he'd read all he could find(and there wasn't much) on the clones after the war's end. Several, enough to be significant, had committed suicide or been executed for disobeying orders in the months following the Empire's rise, leading to the eventual removal of clones from the Imperial Navy. A sliver of ice seemed to run down his spine.

Unfortunately, before he could do more than look at her, meet her challenging gaze, the door hissed open, and his second in command entered. He stepped in close and spoke in Arana's ear.

"Apologies, Commander, but I thought you should be notified. Lord Malefus, upon being informed of the insurgents' capture, ordered that the Zabrak be transferred to Coruscant immediately. They've just taken off."

"Without my approval?" hissed Arana, outraged. This was his operation, dammit!

"It was not a request, Commander." said the Lieutenant. "Lord Malefus was most insistent." Arana sighed.

"Very well." He turned back to the Jedi. "Until next time, then, Miss Tano." Her teeth ground together with an audible click. Arana turned and walked from the interrogation room without a backward glance.

His thoughts, though, were far less one-directional.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think about Niro! Fair warning, I like him, so you'll be seeing more of him. Comments fuel my soul.


	16. A Number of Endings and Beginnings

A/N: Welp, here we are, the end of Part II. Also the last of the completed fics. Part III is ongoing, so I'll be posting it as it's written. As always, leave comments, they fuel my soul.

* * *

12 BBY, Carida, the Imperial Academy of Carida

No being in the Galaxy would disagree: the Imperial Academy was the premier flight school in the Empire. Every year, it graduated a class of elite pilots, who went on to become luxury liner captains, merchant fleet commanders, and, of course, TIE pilots in the Imperial Navy.

This year, as per usual, both the Valedictorian and the Salutatorian were flyboys, both assigned to the 42nd Imperial Fighter Wing. This was a promising start to both of their careers. On the podium, the Valedictorian, a Nubian by the name of Myx Oran, nudged his roommate and best friend, who just so happened to be the Salutatorian.

"Taryk," he hissed at the Corellian. "You think we'll get to fly a mission soon?" The dark haired graduate trod heavily on his foot.

"Shh! If you keep talking, we'll never see combat, they'll discharge you before you leave the Academy."

"Congratulations, Graduates!" called the Academy's Headmaster, one Admiral Aloysius Pike. "As of today, you are all Lieutenants in the Galaxy's best military. You are the Pride of the Empire!" Cheers erupted from the various family members in the crowd.

Taryk knew better than to search for loved ones, as the others were doing. He wouldn't find them in the crowd. Instead, the 20-year-old put a grin on his face and pulled the cap from his head, sending it soaring towards the ceiling with the thousand others.

Back in the dorm, just after Myx left to get dinner with his mother, Taryk flipped his comm to the encrypted frequency.

"Congratulations, Leiutenant." crackled his handler's voice. Taryk could practically hear the Bothan's smirk.

"Ha ha." he deadpanned. "I ship out for the 42nd at 0600 tomorrow."

"Seriously, congrats on that. That's an elite corps. You'll be well placed for your mission."

"It was no sweat. These non Force-sensitives never stood a chance."

"Right," said the Jedi. "I'd better go. I'm expecting a call from Doddona. May the Force be with you, Rovan."

"And with you, Boss." Taryk shut the comm off and relaxed against the gray wall of his dorm room. He'd done it. He'd gotten through two years of Academy training without attracting any dangerous attention.

Now, of course, the hard part began. When he'd been a Youngling at the Temple, imagining his first real mission as a Jedi Knight, he hadn't pictured going undercover in the Navy that had helped to destroy the Jedi Order and reported directly to a Sith Lord.

All the same, it was his mission, and he was determined to aid the Rebellion in any way he could.

* * *

10 BBY, Mandalorian Orbit

Taryk jerked his TIE to the side, wondering for the millionth time why the premier military force in the Galaxy insisted on using such shit equipment. The fighter groaned in protest, but it obeyed, and Taryk put it into a controlled spin to avoid the next barrage of sim bolts. Coming out of it, he sent the ship rocketing toward the 'enemy,' which, today, was the Star Destroyer _Relentless_. He strafed the Destroyer's outer hull with his own sim bolts, keeping well out of his squadron's way. It chafed at him that the Empire tended not to use group tactics, but then again, the Navy wasn't big on teamwork.

As he brought his fighter around for another pass, his comm burst into static, the signal for the end of the exercise. Taryk sighed. Flying maneuvers was infinitely better than running escorts for luxury liners through the blockade, which was his squad's primary job out here. All the same, he guided his ship into position at the head of 12th Squadron.

"You heard Motherbird, Blade Squadron." he said over the comm. "Let's head home."

"Yes, Lieutenant." This reply was echoed by the rest of the squad, and they followed in formation to their assigned hangar. Immediately upon setting the TIE down, Taryk could tell something had changed. They'd been on assignment in the Mandalore system for nearly a month now, as, to Taryk's amusement, Keldabe had a fair amount of Anti-Imperial activity. Sometimes, he wondered if he knew any of the Rebels.

Probably not, but it was fun to imagine seeing his friends again.

In the past month, the 3rd Division of 5th Fleet had kept itself busy with shooing pirates out of the sky and running maneuvers, but now, troop activity suggested an imminent hyperspace jump, which was funny, because Taryk could have sworn that they'd been assigned to Mandalore for at least six weeks. Raising an eyebrow, Taryk left his shuttle in the mechanics' capable hands and headed over to the nearest Commander.

"New orders, Sir?" he asked, after saluting.

"Yes, Lieutenant. We've been assigned to escort a prisoner back to Coruscant for trial. Have your squad prepare for a hyperspace jump in half an hour." Trepidation began to gather, dark strings in the corners of his thoughts.

"Understood, Commander." he said, snapping another salute. His mind was churning as he relayed the orders to his men. They seemed unconcerned, but then, Imps weren't exactly famed for their inquisitive natures.

Around them, the ship was on high alert, Stormtroopers patrolling the hallways in full squads rather than standard two man teams. Never a good sign, particularly if you were a Rebel spy who needed more intel.

He dropped back from his squad near the ship's Detention Block. Trying desperately to look like he belonged, Taryk walked down the hallway, and turned the corner into the Block itself just in time to see the prisoner shuffle into Booking, surrounded by troopers.

Taryk's blood ran ice cold. As it turned out, he did know at least one of the Mandalorian Rebels, though he hadn't seen him in nearly 8 years. Across the room, Mashan Armess looked up, radiating confusion in the Force. His amber eyes flicked back and forth, searching for Taryk's signature. On instinct, Taryk threw his mental shields up, blocking the Zabrak out, and Mashan cast his eyes back to the ground, looking despondent.

Taryk's first thoughts were of rescue, but it was next to impossible. The ship was crawling with Stormtroopers, and, being a pilot, he wasn't even armed. There was simply no way to get Mashan out before the ship jumped to hyperspace, and once it did, they'd be on Coruscant in six hours, what with Mandalore's proximity to the hyperspace lanes.

No. There was only one thing Taryk could do now, and that was damage control.

He had to get a message off to Bail Organa before the ship jumped. If Mashan reached the Emperor before he could-well, the lives of three Jedi, two children, and two senators, including Organa, would be in serious trouble. With this panic-inducing thought, Taryk turned around and hightailed it back to his quarters, walking as quickly as he could while avoiding suspicion. He made it with five minutes to spare. As the door hissed shut behind him, the young Lieutenant abandoned all pretext of nonchalance, flinging himself under his bunk and prying his commlink loose from its spot against the cold gray durasteel. It was a simple hookup, not even audio, only text messages. He punched it in, one line, oddly short for such a damning thing. He could feel the Force swirling in heavy eddies around him as he hit send. The message shot off to both his handler with the Alliance and Bail Organa. It was all he could do.

As the ship jumped to hyperspace, bound for Coruscant and the Emperor, Taryk could only hope it would be enough.

* * *

Approximately 8 hours later, Corellia, Capital City of Coronet

Obi-Wan was awakened by a surge of warning from the Force. He shot out of bed, already reaching for his blasters. Beside him, Asajj shifted and muttered, curling up against the chill night. He shook her bare shoulder.

"Something's coming." he said as she groaned sleepily. The effect was immediate. Her ice-blue eyes snapped open and she sprung upright, pulling her sabers across the room with the Force. Her aura of general ferocity was in no way diminished by the fact that she was entirely nude.

"There was a disturbance in the Force. We need to leave." said Obi-Wan, crossing his little apartment to a square section of wall bordered by re-soldered durasteel. "Might I borrow one of your sabers for a moment?" She obliged, tossing him one curved hilt. The red blade ignited with a snap-hiss, and he wasted no time in cutting the wall open, calling the two lightsabers hidden inside to his pants. He deactivated Vantress' saber and tossed it back to her. She caught it and clipped it back to her belt, now dressed in one of his shirts and her own leggings and boots. Catching his raised eyebrow, she shrugged.

"What? Yours was the first one I saw. Now get a move on, Kenobi, unless you want to wait around and find out what wants to kill you?"

"It's tempting, but I think I'll stick with you, my dear." She snorted. Obi-Wan, meanwhile, grabbed a shirt and his own boots. He'd just finished strapping the boots on when the Force went whirling around him again, telling him to _move._

"If you don't get your pretty Ginger ass up right now, I swear by all the gods I will leave you here." hissed his companion.

"Do calm yourself, Ventress. I'm coming." Downstairs, he heard the cantina's door crash open. Ventress swore violently and yanked the window open before stepping out and dropping to the dingy alley below.

Obi-Wan cast one last look around the room that had been his home for the past 8 years. Lightsabers, blasters, credits-he had everything he needed.

There were boots on the stairs. He could sense them now, an entire battalion of Stormtroopers. Flattering, really, if a tad inconvenient.

They blew his front door open and boiled through, sweeping the tiny apartment. Obi-Wan dove for the window. Blaster bolts streaked around him and chased him into the Corellian night.

* * *

Around the Same Time. Alderaan, Capital City of Aldera

Aldera Palace was bathed in afternoon sunshine. Queen Breha Organa turned to the window of her conference chamber, face lit with soft orange light under Alderaan's sun.

"All of it?" she asked. The woman standing behind her inclined her head, brown braids swinging.

"Yes, Your Majesty. The files have all been destroyed, and the Viceroy's Corvette is gone from our scanners."

"Thank you, Amara. Go. Be with your family." The Queen looked back over her shoulder. "I do not know what will come next for the people of Alderaan."

"Your people stand with you, my Queen." said the young woman. "We are proud of our Viceroy and his defiance."

"As am I, and yet, we cannot withstand the might of the Imperial Navy. We must swallow our pride and bide our time for now. Go. If you are not here when the Empire arrives, they will not question you, and you will not have to lie to them." Amara bowed, then turned and scurried from the conference chamber. As the door hissed shut, Breha sighed and tucked her veil around herself, turning back to the window. Aldera City was beautiful in this light, the sun turning the white buildings gold.

 _Be safe, B, and come back to me. Please._

Too soon, Breha's face fell into shadow as cold gray durasteel blocked out the sun. With hardened brown eyes, the Queen of Alderaan watched the Empire descend on her people, bent on finding and arresting her husband. She allowed herself another moment of cold anger, then put a smile on her face and went to welcome her enemies onto her world.

* * *

Several hours into Hyperspace. Aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer _Inexorable_

"What is our estimated arrival time?" the words were a whipcrack on the bridge, which had been oddly silent for the past 15 seconds.

Darth Malefus tended to have that effect on people.

 _Inexorable's_ chief officer, one Captain Atrela, immediately snapped to attention and saluted.

"We shall make planetfall in approximately 10 hours, M'Lord." he said, jaw working nervously. Darth Malefus let out a low growl, then jerked his chin in acknowledgement. Though he gave no outward sign of it, Malefus was brimming with anticipation. Planetfall could not come soon enough for the Sith Lord.

Two hours earlier, he'd received the best news of his life; Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker was alive. Or at least, he'd survived Order 66. Sidious had been rubbing it in his face for years that he was a pale substitute for Skywalker, and now, now, Malefus had a chance to prove him wrong. In 10 hours, he'd come face to face with the Jedi's Chosen One, and kill him.

Then, Sidious would be forced to accept that Malefus was a true Sith. Once that happened, well, there was no telling what came next, but it would undoubtedly be better than having his master call him insufficient all the time.

As he turned to the Destroyer's transparisteel viewport, his hand went unconsciously to his lightsaber, and a savage grin stretched his mouth.

He hadn't felt so alive in, well, ever.

10 hours.

 _Prepare yourself, Jedi. Your death is coming._


	17. In Which Not Enough is Explained

Author's Note: Hello and welcome back for the third installment of the 'How Ahsoka Tano (sort of) Saved the Galaxy series. IF you missed my last spiel, these are not all one story, but since doesn't do series, I have decided to group them all under one link so they're easier to find! This section is in chronological order, not like the last one. The chapters are also quite a bit longer, and this has more action as well, so hold onto your butts! I also own nothing but the plot and my weird Tatooine headcanons.

* * *

10 BBY. Hyperspace, somewhere between Tatooine and Nar Shaddaa

Space was _blue._ Space was blue, and it was the most astral thing Leia had ever seen. It swirled around the little starship in a narrow corridor, like a tunnel, and Leia knew they were going faster than light, but it didn't feel like it. She wasn't sure how Dad and the Terellian pilot could focus on anything but how wizard it was. Leia sure couldn't. Of course, today, that was probably a good thing. Because today, Leia's life had quite literally gone up in smoke and flame, and now, she was hurtling through hyperspace with her Dad and a strange woman and she had no idea where she was going.

"Hey, can you get your slave off my viewport, please? She's gonna leave smudges." Leia jerked back and glared at the woman. Their pilot, who was either a smuggler or a bounty hunter, if her ship was anything to go by, had said it like a joke, but Leia sure as kreth didn't think it was funny.

"I'm not a karking slave!" she snapped, crossing her arms. Had she been looking, she would have seen her father shoot a truly frightening look at the back of Alina Karalen's head, but she wasn't, so she just heard him say,

"Language, young lady." Leia's mouth made an 'O' of outrage, and she turned towards her father, standing between her and the cockpit hatch.

"You say that all the time!"

"Come on, Princess. Let's leave our pilot to her business." There was a strange edge to the way he said 'pilot' that made her walk a little faster.

Outside the cockpit, the air was much cooler, and Leia pulled the ends of her cloak tighter around herself, shivering.

"Why's it so cold out here?" she asked, looking up at Dad. He grinned down at her and opened the door to the ship's tiny common room, equipped with a sofa and dejarik table. Leia scrambled up onto the sofa, watching Dad expectantly. He dropped down next to her before answering.

"Space is just cold, Princess. There are no close by stars to warm it up, like there are on Tatooine. You just couldn't feel it in the cockpit, 'cause there are lots of machines up there, all giving off heat."

"Oh." she said, screwing up her face. "I don't like it." Dad chuckled.

"I didn't either, the first time I left home." The word brought all of Leia's fears back. The morning had seemed to last entire days. She couldn't believe that only two hours ago, she'd been swinging her legs off of Dad's workstation while Jani, the Twi'lek droid mechanic, made silly faces at her from across the garage. Now, she was wondering if she'd ever see Jani again.

"Why did we have to leave, Dad?" Dad took a deep breath and let it all out in a whoosh of air.

"Did you feel the Force shift this morning, a few minutes after I left to work on the ship?" Leia nodded. She'd been helping Granny Mirilba with her stew, and the shift had almost made her faceplant into the pot. It had felt all weird and wrong and not at all like the Force normally felt, and it had made her want to jump out of her own skin.

"The shift happened because a very bad person came to Tatooine this morning. An Imperial agent." Leia's brows drew together in confusion.

"I don't understand. There've been Imps on Tatooine my whole life. They've been in our house." She felt a pang at the thought of their house, which was now a scorched hole in the street.

"Yeah, but those were just Stormtroopers." said Dad. "They wouldn't know a Force-sensitive if one fell out of the sky on top of them."

"Does the Empire not like Force-sensitives?" asked Leia, an idea popping into her mind. "Is that why you don't like 'em?"

"Part of why." said Dad, very unhelpfully. "But no, they don't like people like us. If they found us, they'd arrest us." She noticed he didn't say Force-sensitives.

"Why?" she drew her knees into her chest, very sure she wasn't going to like the answer.

"The Empire is evil, Leia. When the Emperor took power, he killed anyone who didn't agree with him. He also wiped out the Jedi." The word had a weight to it in the Force, and Leia felt something, like a thousand voices murmuring all around her.

"What's a Jedi?" she asked. Dad's face tightened, and he closed his eyes for just a second, scar rippling across his skin.

"For thousands of years, since the Old Republic, the Jedi Knights were the guardians of peace in the Galaxy. Before the Empire, there were 10,000 Jedi in the Galaxy, all Force users like you, and," his gaze flicked to the cockpit door for a moment, then back to her face. "a long time ago, before you were born, I was one."

"But the Empire-"

"The Empire destroyed the Jedi, because its leader, Emperor Palpatine, is a Sith Lord. Where the Jedi believed in peace, the Sith believe in chaos and evil. They use the Dark Side of the Force, like I told you about." Leia remembered, the smell of blood in their little hut and the red faced creature dressed in black. "You and I are Jedi, Princess, and the Empire will stop at nothing to get rid of us, because we are a threat to the Emperor. The Imperial who came to Tatooine this morning was a Sith too, that's why you felt the Force shift when he arrived."

Leia thought about it for a moment, staring at the ship's gray hull. She was afraid, but with her Dad here, no-one could hurt her. She knew that for a fact. She nodded.

"Okay." she said, looking up into Dad's blue eyes. "What do we do?" Dad made a very soft noise in the back of his throat, almost a laugh.

"Well, first, we go to Nar Shaddaa." he said, hand coming to rest on the durasteel cylinder on his belt. He'd been doing that every so often ever since he'd put it on. Leia had no idea why. "And then, I make a few calls to some old friends."

* * *

10 hours earlier, Hyperspace.

Padmé threw herself against the back of her chair, shaking with relief as the stars stretched out around the ship, carrying them away from Coruscant and the Imperial Home Fleet. Behind her, Sabé was stroking Luke's hair.

"I think he's coming around." she said. Padmé practically flew out of her seat to kneel down beside her son's seat as Luke's blond brows came down, wrinkling his forehead. .

"M-mom?" he croaked. Padmé took his small hand in her own.

"I'm right here, sweetheart."

"My head hurts." said Luke, opening his eyes. Padmé could have cried, she was so thankful. Instead, she smiled and undid his crash webbing so that he could move.. Sabé got up and went to the next room, returning with a glass of water and a tablet of painkiller.

"Here, Love." she said, passing them to him. Luke took the painkiller and sipped at his water.

"What happened, sweetheart?" asked Padmé. It had been terrifying, even more so than the thought of capture, to hear her son scream and thrash while being completely unable to help him, or even see him.

"I-I'm not sure." said Luke. "There was something in my head, and it was telling me to run. It went quiet when you took off. But then, everything went white and I was so cold and scared. I don't know what happened." Seeing Padmé's stricken expression, he added, "It's gone now." Then, his eyes lit up with curiosity. "Are we going to Naboo, Mom?" Padmé had to smile at his resilience. Only an eight-year-old could go from screaming in pain to wondering where they were headed in less than five minutes.

"No, honey, we're not going to Naboo. Not this time." Luke's face fell.

"Where are we going, then? And why did we have to leave so fast? Are we in trouble?" Padmé sighed. She'd been hoping to avoid this conversation, at least for a little while.

There was no easy way to tell your son that you'd been lying to him his whole life, after all.

"We're going to Dac." she said. "I need to talk to a friend of mine. And we had to leave so quickly because the Emperor was about to arrest me." Luke didn't look horrified at that, he merely cocked his head to the side with a questioning look on his face. Sabé, on the other hand, shot her a loaded look that meant they'd be having a conversation once Luke was out of the cockpit.

"Why?" Worry dawned in the boy's eyes. "Did you do something bad?"

"No, no, sweetheart, I didn't do anything bad." Other than plot treason. "But I don't agree with the Emperor or the Empire. I believe the Galaxy should be governed by a democracy, and the Emperor wants to rule alone."

"So he was gonna arrest you for disagreeing with him?" asked Luke, his blond brows knitting together. "That's so not wizard." Padmé let out a startled laugh. "It's not funny, Mom!" he said, looking at her like he thought she might have lost her mind. She shook her head.

"No, no, of course it's not. I'm sorry for laughing, I'm just so glad you're alright." All of a sudden, the implications of what had happened in the past hour, of the Empire knowing about Bail and her treachery, hit her. If they were after her, they'd be after him, too, and Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and-she shut down that train of thought. She had to stay calm. Anakin was perfectly capable of defending himself and Leia, as were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. They'd be fine. They'd be fine.

Sabé, seeing her distress, bent down so that she was at Luke's eye level.

"Hey, how about you and threepio go and find some drinks, huh?" She gestured to the golden droid, which she'd turned off as soon as they'd boarded, not wanting to hear its fussing. "I know there's some fizzy juice around here." Luke's face lit up at the prospect of fizzy juice, which was a very special treat, and took off, hitting C-3PO's on switch and hauling the droid after him. As the door shut behind them, Sabé fixed Padmé with a knowing look.

"I knew it." she said. "He's Skywalker's son, isn't he?" Padmé nodded.

"Anakin survived the Purge. After Palpatine declared himself, I left Coruscant to be with him. Three days after the Republic fell, I gave birth to twins." Sabé opened her mouth, but Padmé wasn't finished. "We decided to go into hiding. Ani took our daughter, and I took Luke back to Coruscant, to avoid suspicion. Besides, I'm a Senator, I had a duty to my Queen."

"And now, the Empire's discovered that you were together?" asked Sabé.

"Yes, that we were together, that he survived Order 66, and that we had twin children. I have to get Luke and myself to Mon Mothma. She can get us in touch with the Rebels."

"Rebels?!" cried Sabé. "What are you talking about?"

"Senator Organa and I started planning for a rebellion against the Empire just after the Republic fell. Senator Mothma was brought in when Senator Organa returned to Coruscant. As of now, it's mostly a network of sympathetic Senators and individual cells, but it can protect us from the Empire. Luke and I cannot fall into Palpatine's hands."

"I agree." said Sabé with a nod. "So, Dac?"

"Yes." said Padmé. "Senator Mothma sent me a message as we were leaving. She's on Dac, doing some business with the Mon Calamari."

As she finished speaking, the door opened and Luke came back in, cans of fizzy juice in hand. Padmé smiled at him and accepted one. The carbonation didn't do anything to settle the worry in her heart, but it was something to do with her hands, and that was enough.

"How far is it to Dac?" asked her son, after taking a huge gulp of fizzy juice..

"Don't drink it so fast, Luke, you'll get a stomachache." Luke glanced down, disappointed. "We'll be traveling about 14 hours altogether." she added, realizing she hadn't answered him. "We have to make a few stops to change vectors, though." Indeed, they'd have to stop in about an hour to make the first change. Luke nodded, then looked over at Sabé.

"Will you teach me how to shoot your blaster?" he asked, hope shining bright in his eyes. He looked so much like Anakin in that moment that Padmé was reminded forcibly of a different Nubian ship, bound for a different world. Undoubtedly it was the memory that made her interrupt Sabé's gentle refusal.

"Tell you what, sweetheart," she said, reaching under her robes and pulling out her holdout blaster. Luke stared in open mouthed surprise. "As soon as we find a training room, I'll teach you to shoot, I promise."

"You have a blaster?" asked her son, eyes wide, reevaluating everything he knew about his mother.

"I have several blasters, sweetheart. Believe it or not, I got into several fights during the Clone Wars." Luke continued to stare at her, eyes darting between the blaster and her face.

"You're amazing, Mom!" She smiled, though her thoughts were nowhere near happy. She'd have given anything, in that moment, to have been a simple farmer's wife, eking out a living on her homeworld and untroubled by Empires or Sith Lords.

 _Snap out of it, Amidala. You have a life, and this is it._

And so, instead of asking the goddess for the hundredth time what she'd done to deserve this, she held her blaster out for her eight-year-old son to look at.

"First lesson," she said, running a finger along the barrel. "This switch is a safety. When it's flipped, the blaster won't fire. Unless you're planning on shooting within the next 10 seconds, it should be on, got it?" Luke nodded, blue eyes wide.

"What's that one?" he asked, jabbing at the switch above the trigger.

"That one switches between stun bolts and laser bolts. Do you know what stun bolts do?"

"Yeah!" exclaimed Luke. "They knock people out for a few minutes, right?"

"More than a few minutes, but less than an hour, yes. But they don't work on droids. Can you guess why?" Luke frowned, thinking about it.

"Because-because droids don't have muscles and stuff?" Padmé smiled again, a genuine one this time.

"Close." she said, holding out a hand. "Stun bolts actually mess with our brains, which is why they don't work on droids. It's the wrong kind of energy to mess up their computers."

"Okaay, so, I can't stun a droid."

"Not with a stun bolt from a regular blaster, no."

"Alright." said Luke, accepting this new knowledge. "What else?"

They passed the hour in hyperspace this way, with Padmé and Sabé explaining the parts of their blasters to a fascinated Luke. Predictably, he was highly curious as to how all the circuitry worked. So curious, in fact, that Padmé had to pull up schematics on her datapad in order to explain what he wanted to know. As such, before she knew it, her proximity alarm went off, and it was time to drop out of hyperspace and change course. Padmé re-holstered her blaster, laughing at Luke's halfhearted suggestion that he hold it for her, "just for a second, Mom!"

She took the ship's controls as the stars stretched out and reformed. According to her navicomputer, the planet below them was Abregado-rae. It was a Core world, and far too close to Coruscant for her comfort, but they'd only be there for a few minutes, while the navicomputer reset.

The ship that appeared on her scanners wasn't Imperial-class, and so she only gave it a cursory once-over on the screen. That was, until it caught her in a tractor beam.

"Nubian Senator, you are advised not to resist." came the voice over the comm, rough and accented. "This is the attack shuttle _Dark Corona,_ affiliated with Captain Hondo Ohnaka."

"No." breathed Padmé. "No, this isn't happening." Except, of course, it was. She had escaped Coruscant from right under the Emperor's nose, only to be boarded by Outer-Rim pirates.

She had three options. She could fight. Attack shuttles were large, easily carrying 20 men. She and Sabé might manage to take about six of them. On the other hand, surrendering was an equally bad option. She wasn't certain the Empire had her name and face on a watchlist, but that was only because she hadn't yet checked the database. If she wasn't already listed as wanted, she would be soon. These pirates would turn them over in a heartbeat, and that was simply not acceptable. She would not bring her son back to Palpatine to be held over the rest of her family's head. She wouldn't.

Which left the third choice. Luke wouldn't end up on his knees before Palpatine, but she likely would. She tried for a split second longer to come up with a fourth option, but there wasn't one. They'd recognized the ship, and her face was on the holonews fairly often. She wouldn't get away with taking Luke and running. Her fists clenched.

 _Anakin, I'm sorry, my love._

After transmitting an all-clear signal to the shuttle, she slipped from her seat and took her son's hand. His eyes were wide and frightened as she grabbed his rucksack and led him down the yacht's main corridor.

"Sabé, you two have to take the escape pod. Go to Dac. Mon Mothma will know what to do. She can protect the two of you." She passed Sabé her emergency comm. "This, if it still works, will connect you to Bail Organa. He'll help you as much as he can."

"I'm not leaving you, Mom!" Luke's voice broke, his eyes filling with tears. She bent down to him.

"Yes, you are. Auntie Sabé will take care of you for just a little while, and I'll catch up to you." She looked him in the eyes, willing him to believe her. Judging by his trembling lip, he didn't. But then, she hadn't really expected him to. "Luke, sweetheart, I need you to promise me something." He looked up at her, eyes red and cheeks wet. "Don't tell anyone your name, unless Aunt Sabé says it's okay. If anyone asks, I want you to make something up? Can you do that?"

"Mom-"

"Promise me, sweetheart." She said forcefully, clutching his hands in her own.

"I-I promise." he said, and then he flung his skinny arms around her waist. She held him for just a moment, trying to memorize the feel of his hair under her hand. Too soon, she pulled away, shifting her hands to his upper arms.

"Go with Aunt Sabé, okay? Listen to her, and do what she tells you." Luke nodded, lower lip trembling. "I will see you again, sweetheart, I promise." Goddess, she hoped she could keep that promise.

The last she saw of her son, he was trying very hard not to cry, hand in Sabé's, as they boarded the escape pod. It jettisoned safely and dropped toward the planet's surface. It also went unseen by the pirates, focused as they were on her. With a sigh of relief, Padmé walked back to the cockpit on legs that felt as though they'd turned to creamed roa rice. She sank back into her seat as the shuttle's gangway locked onto her airlock. The gears of her mind turned double-time, formulating a strategy based on the stories Anakin and Ahsoka had told her about Hondo Ohnaka. A scoundrel and a pirate, certainly, but, at least according to Ahsoka, he had an honorable streak as well. It was her only hope. With that encouraging thought came the sound of boots on her ship.

"I'm in the cockpit!" She called, laying her blaster out on the console and lacing her fingers behind her head. "There's a protocol droid on board as well."

They stormed into the cockpit in a mass of blasters, braids, and spice-scented sweat. Padmé Amidala Skywalker took a deep breath, perhaps the last free breath of her life, and turned to face them.

* * *

A/N: Reviews fuel my soul.


	18. Bail Organa Gets Some Upsetting News

10 BBY, Dantooine

Aldera looked wrong with Stormtroopers choking her streets, Bail Organa decided, as he searched through the news recording for footage of his wife. He hadn't seen her yet; the reporters weren't focusing on the Palace, but on the market, where squads of white-armored troops patrolled between the stalls, checking papers and harassing vendors. Bail's fist clenched on the desk. He turned off the news report, unable to watch his world suffer on his account any longer. He wanted, more than anything, to be there, but he knew damn well that his presence would only make things worse. The Empire was hunting him, after all.

That thought didn't make him feel any better, oddly enough. He had utter faith in Breha, but he worried for her all the same. Impractical as it was, he wished he'd managed to keep his more anti-Imperial activities to himself. Her job now would be easier if she honestly didn't know anything. Instead, he'd left his wife to play an extremely dangerous game, and if she lost, their people would be punished right along with her. And Bail wasn't there.

His comm's insistent chirping shook him out of his thoughts. Grateful for the distraction, Bail actually managed to sound cheerful when he answered.

"Organa here."

"This is Sabé Vertie" _Kriff._

"Sabé?" asked Bail, his momentary cheer slipping away. "Why do you have this comm?"

"We were intercepted above Abregado-Rae." said the woman. Bail's stomach dropped out. "The Senator allowed herself to be taken prisoner so that I could get away with Luke. Hondo Ohnaka's pirate gang has her, as far as I know." Bail slammed his fist down onto the desk.

"Damn." He growled. To the woman on the other end of the comm, he said, "Alright, stay where you are, I'll send Alliance people to pick you up and get you and Luke somewhere safe."

"Okay. I'll do my best, Organa, but my first priority is the boy." With that, she cut the transmission. Bail sighed. No matter what he did, it seemed, he couldn't get ahead. Then, the full implication of what had happened to Padmé hit him like a punch to the jaw.

There were only two people in the Galaxy that could be trusted with Luke and Sabé. Neither conversation would be fun, but one would most likely result in his getting choked out, Jedi or no. Feeling like a coward, (and also like he needed a stiff drink _right now_ ) Bail punched 441-002 into his comm instead of -003. The voice that answered was crisp, professional, and _incredibly_ good to hear.

"This is Kenobi."

* * *

10 BBY, Abregado-Rae, About 10 Klicks outside of Abregado-Rae Spaceport

As the transmission dropped, Sabé scrubbed a hand over her face, wondering how in the nine Corellian hells this had happened to her. That morning, she'd arrived on Coruscant to spend the day with her best friend and Luke, watch Padmé's back at a Senate dinner, maybe get to deck a handsy guard. You know. Something _fun._

Crash landing onto a famous smuggler's haven with the son of Senator Amidala and a Goddess-damned Jedi was many things, but fun was decidedly not one of them.

"Auntie?" came a far too quiet voice behind her. Telling herself to buck up, Sabé turned to Luke. The boy looked about three seconds away from bursting into hysterical tears, and Sabé found herself sympathizing. She didn't say anything, just folded Luke into her arms, stroking his short blond hair while he clung to her tunic.

"Shh, shh, we're going to be alright, Luke. We'll be fine." At that, Luke turned his face up to hers, blue eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"What about Mom?" he asked, voice trembling. Sabé took his hands and squeezed.

"You listen to me, Luke Amidala." she said, and to her surprise, she didn't have trouble keeping her words steady. "Your mom is the best shot with a blaster I know, and she once convinced a Hutt crime lord not to start a feud with the Republic. She can handle a few stinky pirates, don't you think?" Luke looked down at the floor, not convinced. Sabé let go of his left hand and lifted his chin, tilting his face back up. "Padmé promised, right? She told you that she'd catch up with us." Luke nodded hesitantly. "Well, then," said Sabé. " She will. We just have to get somewhere safe so that she can come find us, alright?" She forced herself to chuckle. "After all, we can't sleep in the pod, huh?" Luke cracked a tiny smile as she spoke.

"Okay, Auntie." he said, a determined light coming to life in his bright blue eyes. Now aware of his parentage, Luke reminded her rather forcibly of his father as a young boy; in fact, it was giving Sabé a weird sense of déjà vu. Repressing the urge to check the sky for Trade Federation ships, she stood up and checked her blaster before taking Luke's hand and leading him out onto Aberegado-Rae's soil. The grass under Sabé's boots was springy and soft. To the west, mountains dominated the horizon, dark against the pale blue sky. According to Sabé's datapad, the pod had crashed about 10 klicks south of the nearest city. Sure enough, with macrobinoculars, she could see the spaceport's towers in the distance.

"The city's a long way away, huh?" said Luke, after she passed him the binocs. Sabé merely nodded.

"Maybe we'll find some nice people on their way in who'll give us a lift." She said, grinning. Luke grinned back, most of his fear for Padmé gone in the excitement of Being on an Adventure. Sabé, who was not eight and therefore not nearly as resilient, was having a harder time ignoring her desire to burst into hysterics. The sheer force of her Handmaiden training was all that kept her smile in place. For Luke's sake, she would hold it together. No matter what, she promised herself, she would get Padmé's son to safety, if not to his father.

* * *

A/N: this is criminally short and I apologize, I think I screwed up the chapter breaks from my monster word file. But, it'll all end up here eventually, so there's that. Reviews fuel my soul.


	19. Yo Ho Ho and a Bottle of Rum

10 BBY, Mandalore, Capital City of Keldabe

Arana knew the second his superior's image solidified that he'd made a mistake. Even through the weak holo signal, Arana could feel the cold rage coming off of the man. Obviously, Malefus was in the middle of something, and it wasn't going well.

Oh well. Might as well be shot for a nexu as for a tooka.

"Apologies for the interruption, M'Lord. It's just that I've caught a few of the Mandalorian terrorists, and-"

"Your terrorists are not my concern at the moment, Commander." snapped Malefus. "Do with them as you see fit, and do _not_ bother me again." With that, the transmission cut out. Arana slumped back in his seat, torn between annoyance and relief. On the one hand, he was still alive, and he knew better than to take it for granted. On the other, his superior was a complete ass, and as a result, Arana had no idea what to do with his three remaining prisoners.

The most obvious choice was to use them to get the rest. After all, three members of the cell were still breathing free air, and Arana's Mandalore assignment wouldn't be considered complete until he had them all in custody. Unfortunately, he didn't have the resources for a surefire trap. Really, it had been a stroke of luck that he'd caught the ones he had. And what he absolutely could not afford was another embarrassment of the Imperial command in Keldabe. If such an embarrassment occurred on his watch, Arana might as well go ahead and sign his own demotion orders. Ideally, he'd be able to get one of his prisoners to give up the others. However, after conversations with all three of them, he was reasonably sure that wasn't going to happen. He'd actually learned some new swear words from the Clone Trooper, and the Nautolan boy hadn't said a word, merely stared at the wall, a lost look in his dark eyes. As for the Togruta woman, well, she made him uncomfortable, there was no other way to put it. She reminded him of his childhood, of the way he'd looked up to the brave Jedi Knights, defending peace and the Republic alike.

Not exactly the best memories to be immersed in, as an Imperial officer charged with making sure the Jedi and what they stood for were forgotten.

Which had all been fine when the Jedi were ghosts, their presence fading fast from Galactic history. It was somewhat more difficult to dismiss them as war criminals when they sat in his interrogation room, not acting at all like crazy traitors who had brought down the Republic and tried to murder its leader for no reason.

Sighing, Arana stood up. The only way he was going to get anywhere was if he continued interrogating them, and Ahsoka Tano was the only one willing to have a conversation beyond spitting Huttese and Mando'a insults at him.

However, before he could get more than two steps away from his desk, a Junior Agent stepped in and snapped to attention.

"Commander. We're receiving a transmission from Outer Rim Command for you, Sir." Arana nodded sharply and followed the young officer down to the Comm hub, where the base's high-res holo comm was located. The holo winked into existence as he entered, and Arana immediately went stick-straight, hand snapping up to salute. By the man's rank pin, he was a Grand Moff, one of the Emperor's elites.

"You are the chief officer at this base of operations, are you not?"

"Yes, Sir! Commander Niro Arana, Sir." The man smiled, eyes glittering.

"Congratulations are in order, then, Commander. Your operation has yielded some highly valuable intelligence. Clear the room. I would speak to you in private." Arana jerked his chin at the techs and junior officers, who scurried for the door, resembling nothing so much as mouse droids. When the door had shut with a hiss, the gray-uniformed officer spoke again. "I am Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin, Imperial Governor for the Outer Rim Territories." Arana barely managed to keep from gaping at the man like a fish. Wondering what his operation could possibly have yielded that was of such value that Tarkin would personally talk to him, he nodded.

"A pleasure to meet you, Sir."

"Indeed." said Tarkin. Arana had never in his life heard such a cold, sharp voice, and as he'd met both Lord Malefus and Emperor Palpatine, that was saying something. But Tarkin was speaking again now, and Arana jerked his mind back to the holo. "-arrested the insurgents who have been plaguing this system, but the prisoner you sent to Coruscant turned out to be a veritable spice mine of information, given the right-ah-encouragement. I tell you this both as a commendation of your skill as an intelligence officer and because it is likely to be relevant to your investigation on Mandalore." Here, Tarkin's dark eyes lit up with something like glee. "Through the prisoner, the Emperor has learned that several Jedi Knights escaped justice for their war crimes. He has also uncovered two traitors in the Imperial Senate." Arana forced his face to stay neutral, desperately hoping he was hearing things. Insurgents were one thing, Jedi Knights and rogue Senators something entirely different. "As a result of this information, I have reason to believe that these traitors and war criminals may try to contact your insurgent cell on Mandalore, as they have used Jedi propaganda in the past. Therefore, I urge you to keep an eye out for these individuals. They just became the Empire's number one priority, though it will be kept internal. There is no need to terrify the good citizens of the Galaxy." Arana swallowed hard as the five pictures appeared, and this time, he couldn't keep a straight face.

The images of Bail Organa, Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Grandmaster Yoda were staring up at him, after all.

"Ah, Thank you for the commendation, Sir." He said, trying to recover his composure. "If I might ask, what became of the boy?" Tarkin grinned, all cold satisfaction.

"He was killed during interrogation." Arana's brain went white with horror. It must have shown on his face, too, because Tarkin laughed, sending chills down Arana's spine. "Do recover yourself, Commander. The prisoner was a traitor, and a Jedi at that. You know as well as I do that there are no innocents among them. You should be proud, Commander Arana. You have done your Emperor a great service." With that, the transmission cut out, Tarkin's image dissipating.

The zabrak boy's brown eyes were plastered to Niro Arana's mind. Everything played for him in that moment, the clone trooper's anger, the Nautolan's numb silence, Malefus and his feral smiles, Palpatine's inhuman croaking, and, loudest of all, Ahsoka Tano's words.

 _I don't think you know what side you chose._

Dear Gods, he'd sent that 16 year old boy to Coruscant, to the Emperor. Tarkin had all but offered him a promotion for it.

 _You should be proud, Commander Arana_

Arana's stomach turned. He made it to the fresher across the hallway, just barely, before losing his lunch. Half sitting, half lying on the fresher floor, his back pressed awkwardly against the cool durasteel wall, Commander Niro Arana of the Imperial Special Operations Command had only one thought amidst the haze of terrified brown eyes and ringing accusations in his mind.

He could never, ever, if he lived for a thousand years, make this right. And yet, he had to try, all the same.

* * *

10 BBY, Hyperspace. Two Hours out from Nar Shaddaa.

The holo was from a Senate session towards the end of the war. The last time she'd spoken before the full Senate, and the last time she'd been on the holonews before Order 66. Her hair had been sculpted into one of her ridiculous (but always beautiful) styles, and her hands danced in front of her, illustrating her words. She was talking about the school budgets on Coruscant, something about how her committee had found a way to allocate resources, despite the Republic's military focus. Mostly, her eyes were shining, bright with the purpose and passion that made her Padmé.

Anakin couldn't help the smile that spread across his face to see her, even just an old holo. He didn't often allow himself to look at this, the only image of her that he had. He absolutely refused to watch the current Senate broadcasts, well aware that seeing it would only make him angry.

Besides, she didn't speak before the assembly anymore. More than once, he'd heard spacers mention how much they missed seeing "the pretty little Nabooan" on the holonet.

"That your girl?" came the Jango Jumper's voice. Anakin shut the holo off and glared at her, silent. "Kriff." Said the woman, shrugging. "Just trying to make small talk, man." She dropped onto one of the benches with a tired sigh, eyes on him.

"Actually, I meant to apologize for the slave comment earlier." She said. Anakin raised an eyebrow. "It was a joke, but apparently I didn't think it through all the way. My mom always told me my mouth would get me in trouble someday. I'm kind of a nervous talker, you know?" Anakin couldn't refrain from snorting.

"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." he said. She gave him an apologetic smile.

"Anyway, the girl took it personally, and I'm sorry for that. I just thought, with her being in the shop and it being Tatooine-" Anakin cut her off, not trusting in his self control enough to listen to the rest.

"She's my daughter." He said shortly.

"She's a real spitfire. She get that from you?" Anakin sighed, trying very hard not to show the woman exactly how Leia had come by her tendency to blow up on beings who pissed her off. Instead, he crossed his arms and shot her a question of his own, more out of a desire to avoid answering her questions than anything else.

"How did you end up as a bounty hunter? You're not much like the ones I've met." She shrugged again.

"You know, I'm not really sure. My parents were part of a traveling show kinda deal, but I was never any good at the dancing shit they did, so I left when I was 18. Somehow, I ended up on Nal Hutta and the rest is pretty much history." She opened her mouth again, projecting _nervousquestion_ in the Force.

"I swear by the Corellian hells, if you ask me why the Empire's after me, I will hit you." He snapped.

She did not shut her mouth.

"Actually, I was gonna ask you how you managed to survive the Purges." She narrowed her eyes at him as his mind clouded over with something alarmingly like panic. "I remember the holoreels. You're kinda famous, you know?" Her eyes widened then, and Anakin realized belatedly that his hand was wrapped around his lightsaber hilt. "Whoa, calm down. I've got no love for the Empire. They kinda get in the way of my business and shit. If I was gonna turn you in I'd have done it already. Besides, can't you guys, like, read thoughts or something?"

"No, actually." muttered Anakin, releasing his grip on the 'saber. "I almost didn't." She flashed him a confused look. "You asked how I survived Order 66. I wasn't near any clones when it started, so I had some warning, but I still nearly died getting off of Coruscant."

"Oh," she said, drawing the word out. "I always thought it was kinda karked how the Imps just let the Jedi win the war for 'em and then decided they were traitors." She stood up, then. "We'll be entering realspace again in a few minutes, Kin Starseeker. You should probably wake your kid up." With that, she turned and walked back into the cockpit.

Anakin raised a shaking hand to his forehead, wishing for the simplicity of life on Tatooine, if nothing else about it. He found Leia asleep in a bunk, curled around her stuffed bantha toy. He shook her awake and placated her usual grumpiness with the promise of watching the ship's descent. Hair a fluffy, fuzzy mess, she followed him up to the cockpit as the Terellian's ship re-entered realspace.

* * *

As he ducked through throngs of greasy lowlifes, all Anakin could think was that Nar Shaddaa hadn't changed much since he'd last been here. He kept a hand on Leia's back so as to keep her close to him, and searched the strip for a cantina, preferably one that wasn't advertising strippers.

Leia was hardly sheltered, but Padmé might literally kill him if she ever found out that her daughter had been exposed to that particular side of adulthood.

"I don't like this place." muttered Leia. Anakin grinned down at her. He hadn't been able to do anything for her hair other than braid it, and she looked decidedly scruffy, wrinkled nose and dignified expression aside.

"It's basically Tatooine, but with buildings instead of sand." he said. "But I don't like it either." Spotting a small cantina down the next street, Anakin ducked between a pair of Weequay and a Rodian, tugging Leia behind him. There were no intoxicated exotic dancers on the bar, so Anakin made a beeline for the dilapidated comm station in the corner, currently occupied by a hooded figure speaking to (surprise, surprise) another hooded figure. The other being wrapped up as Anakin and Leia approached, and he keyed in the frequency he wanted.

"Oh, dear." said Bail Organa. "They came after you already."

"Yeah, this morning. We got away clean though. What happened?" Bail cast his eyes down.

"We had a leak. They caught one of our little band of refugees yesterday. I managed to warn Padmé before they started jamming my comms. She's offworld, but there was a complication." Anakin did _not_ like the sound of that.

"Complication?" he asked, brows coming down.

"Yes." The boy is safe with her people, but she was captured. Sabé believes it was Ohnaka's men." Anakin clenched the fist that wasn't currently locked in an eight-year-old's death grip. Leia wasn't listening, occupied instead by the fight that had broken out across the taproom.

"Thanks for telling me." he muttered. Bail relaxed. "Have you heard from my Master?" At that, Bail smiled faintly.

"Yes. He's headed to where Sabé and Luke landed. With any luck, they'll be at my location in a few days."

"Good." said Anakin, mind already whirring. "I'm gonna get Leia there as well, then I'm going after her."

"I can't let you do that." said Bail, crossing his arms. "You know that's exactly what they're hoping for."

"With all due respect, Senator Organa," said Anakin, "You can't stop me."

* * *

A/N: Whee, protective!hubby Anakin. Reviews. They give me life.


	20. The Worst Week

10 BBY, Florrum.

Padmé found it extremely ironic that pirates, with their chaotic natures and utter lack of civility even _had_ a boss, let alone felt the need to check in with him and ask him what to do with their prisoners.

Of course, she thought as the shuttle descended through Florrum's upper atmosphere, her captor's need for validation was the only reason she was still out of the Empire's clutches. Surely, if the shuttle's captain, a rather heavyset Weequay with an eyepatch and a nearly unintelligible accent, had any more independence, he'd have carted a runaway senator off to Coruscant for a quick payday. Instead, she was billions of miles away from Darth Sidious and the Imperial Navy both, and she had to smile, despite her captivity.

"Keep smilin', my Pretty." growled the captain, leering at her. "You ain't gonna be doin' it much longer." Padmé's first instinct was to snap back at him, but she bit her lip instead. She needed as much goodwill as these pirates could give her. She pressed her cuffed wrists to her stomach, mind drawn to her son. Had they landed safely? Were they still on Abregado-Rae? She hoped not. She hoped Bail's people had brought them to a Rebel base. However, her hopes had a nasty habit of never coming true. And so Padmé worried.

Anakin, after much prompting, had told her about Florrum and his misadventures with Obi-Wan and Count Dooku on the desert world. As she blinked in the harsh amber sunlight, she couldn't help but think that he'd exaggerated about the planet's unpleasantness. It was warm, but not unbearably so, and the stark red landscape was sort of beautiful, in a harsh way. The hazy atmosphere she could live without, but all in all, it wasn't so bad. Certainly not a "barren wasteland with less civilization than even Tatooine."

Ah, well. Anakin had always had a flair for the dramatic, she'd be lying to herself if she tried to deny it. One pirate's hand closed tight around her upper arm, and she fought down the urge to yank away with a sharp "don't touch me!" He dragged her along, through the compound's heavy blast doors, and into utter chaos.

After staring for a few moments, Padmé determined that the dim room was a bar, but it was far less sophisticated than any she'd ever been in before. Weequay lounged on every flat surface, the bar itself included. Females waltzed around, avoiding wandering eyes and rewarding grabby hands with punches to the face. Padmé approved.

In the center of the room, seated at a table, sat Hondo Ohnaka. Padmé recognized him easily from the negotiations for Dooku's ransom. Having spotted her as soon as his men came in, the pirate stood and beckoned with a gray-skinned hand, then ducked through the door in the back of the room. The pirate behind her smacked her ass with enough force to make her stumble forward and grunted,

"Move it." Padmé glared at the Galaxy in general, and walked forward, ignoring her smarting backside.

Ohnaka's office was fairly spartan, to Padmé's surprise. His desk was large, but it wasn't made of anything special, and the room's best feature was the big bay window overlooking the compound's landing area. Ohnaka himself sank into his chair and swung both feet up onto the desk's surface. From the scuffmarks crisscrossing the metal, Padmé supposed that this was his customary sitting position.

"So," began the pirate boss. "What is Naboo's Senator doing out in space all by herself, I wonder?" Padmé raised her chin and dropped her shoulders back.

"The question, Captain Ohnaka, is why your men chose to interfere in the business of an Imperial Senator. I assure you, you have no legal grounds to do so. Perhaps, if you allow me to go on my way, I might forget this ever happened."

"I quake in my boots, dear Senator." Said Ohnaka with a grin. "All the same, I am wondering why your name was placed on a list of missing Imperial citizens. I imagine the Emperor will be missing you, yes?" Padmé's blood ran cold. Thanking the goddess for her political training, she kept her face blank.

"Very well." She said. "Might we speak in private, Captain Ohnaka?" she looked at her two guards. " It's not that I don't trust your men, of course, but I would feel more comfortable without them here." The pirate squinted at her, canting his head to one side. Padmé put on her most disarming smile. "Come now, Captain, I am a short female senator from a peaceful culture. Surely you could take me if you needed to. Why, I've heard you've defeated Jedi Knights in combat." Ohnaka's fist clenched on his desk. Padmé lifted her bound wrists in demonstration. After another moment, the Weequay flipped his hand at the two guards, and they left, shooting each other impressed looks.

"You have chosen the right career, Senator. That was well played." Padmé smiled again and nodded graciously. She was in hot water here, but no amount of terror could keep her manners at bay. "Now, then, Senator Amidala, tell me. Who do you supposed will pay the most for you, the Empire or your Queen?" Padmé snorted.

"Oh, the Empire will, most definitely. You'll get nothing from the Naboo. We have protocols in place, no ransoms will be paid under any circumstance."

"Something tells me there's more." said Ohnaka. "I don't think you particularly want to go back to Imperial space, considering you clearly haven't been kidnapped."

"Actually, I have, but not from Coruscant." she snapped, raising an eyebrow. "The Empire might pay to get me back, but then again, they might not. It's not as though they've put a bounty on my head. It's just as likely they'll send a Star Destroyer and burn your compound and your crews to ashes. You know how the Imperial Navy feels about being embarrassed as well as I do. They certainly wouldn't take kindly to the kind of posturing you did when you caught Dooku."

"Hm." Ohnaka tapped his finger against his chin. "What are you proposing, then?"

"Keep my ship." said Padmé. "It's a high-end model, you can get a good bit of money for it. Give me just enough credits to get a shuttle off world, and then we both forget this ever happened." Ohnaka threw back his head, laughing, and Padmé's heart sank.

"I don't think so, my dear." he said, still chuckling. "I'm a pirate, not a used ship salesman. I think I'll take the possibility of a reward from the Empire over letting you go." He opened his mouth to call for his men, and Padmé reacted out of sheer desperation.

"Wait!" The Weequay looked at her in surprise. "Do you love the Empire?"

"I fail to see what that has to do with anything." Padmé shook her head.

"That's not what I asked." she said. "If you can honestly tell me you prefer the Empire to the Old Republic, then by all means, sell me back to it." She took a step toward him. "But if you can't, then believe me, you do not want me in Palpatine's custody any more than I do."

"Oh? Please explain, my dear. Keep in mind that I hold business far above any nostalgia."

"This isn't about nostalgia, or even ideological differences. This is about lives." Padmé leaned forward. He opened his mouth, but she wasn't finished. "I believe that you have a sense of honor, Captain Ohnaka. We have that in common. So I ask you again; do you love the Empire, or do you want to see its shadow leave the Galaxy?" Ohnaka cocked his head, watching her.

"I have no love for the Empire, Senator, but there is no dishonor in handing you over to them."

"I am more than a Senator, Captain. I am a wife and a mother. My son will suffer for your choice as well, if I end up on my knees before the Emperor. I have no illusions about my ability to keep information from him. He will rip my son's location out of my head, and then he'll kill me to destabilize my husband. I don't even want to think about what he'll do to my son. My Luke is eight years old. Where is the honor, Captain, in condemning him to a fate worse than death? In plunging the Galaxy deeper into darkness? You know what Palpatine is, just as you knew what Dooku was. How can you stomach an action that will further his agenda?"

"Such an idealist." Said Ohnaka with a smile. "Your vision for the future is truly beautiful, Senator. However, you seem to have a very high opinion of your importance, my dear. If you are going to convince me not to cart you off to Coruscant, you will have to explain a little further."

And so she did. She told him about Anakin, about Palpatine's Sith nature and his quest to make the Chosen One his apprentice. Hondo Ohnaka listened with bright, calculating eyes. When she lapsed into silence at last, he sighed.

"I like you, Senator Amidala. Truly I do. You believe in a better Galaxy, despite the fact that you could easily prosper under the Imperial system. I respect your commitment to your goals. All the same, if I choose not to sell you to the Empire, it won't be because of your pretty face and high idealism." Padmé frowned at him, confused.

"It will be because the Empire is bad for my business." said the pirate, leaning back in his chair. "Do you know, Senator, that you are the first opportunity for real profit I've seen in the past two years? The Empire pays attention, you see, when ships go missing, far more than your Old Republic did. I am reduced to selling _spice._ You probably don't know this, but that is a sad, sad line of work for a man of my talents." Padmé leaned back, crossing her arms.

"So, you'll trade ships and send me on my way?" a glimmer of hope flared to life in her chest, pushing the icy fear that had been crushing her mind since the pirates had hailed her. Perhaps she would catch up to Luke, after all. Ohnaka grinned, revealing several gold teeth.

"You know, I think I will. Your lovely story has convinced me, Senator. Just remember old Hondo once you destroy this Sith Empire, ah?" Padmé's arms dropped to her sides, a smile breaking across her face. She was going to see her son again and, if she was lucky, her husband and daughter as well.

Just as she opened her mouth to thank the pirate, the office door hissed open and a Weequay skidded into the room.

"Boss! We've got a problem!" Hondo looked over, and the younger pirate held out a pair of long-range specs. Padmé didn't have much experience in reading Weequay expressions, but she thought he looked scared. The pirate boss took the proffered specs and aimed them at the sky. He looked for barely a second before rattling off something in a language Padmé didn't understand. Beside her, the nameless Weequay's eyes widened, impressed. When she looked back, Hondo was holding the specs out to her. With growing dread, Padmé took them and looked. The ships were steel-gray and horribly, horribly familiar.

The Empire had found her.

* * *

10 BBY, Corellia, Capital City of Coronet

"I should never have sat down at that Force-damned table with you." growled Asajj, tugging the hood of her stolen cloak further down.

"Oh, come now, darling, surely there's some good to come out of it?" whispered Obi-Wan with a cheeky grin.

"Yeah, me." she muttered, and felt an answering flash of amusement from her companion. "Not entirely sure it was worth it, though." Keeping a hold on her hood, she turned to look across the street at Coronet's main spaceport, hoping she'd imagined the legions of Stormtroopers guarding it. No such luck, of course. She could barely see the nearest ship for all the cheap armor.

"What? You weren't bored with bounty hunting? At least this is exciting." quipped Obi-Wan.

"No offense, dear, but if you don't shut up, I really will leave you here." she snapped, vitriol only slightly dampened by the fact that she'd had to whisper it.

"And take my shirt?" he asked, reaching across the tabletop and tugging on her sleeve. "Surely not even you would do something so cruel." Ventress snorted. "I would prefer you didn't leave me here, though."

"I signed up to get laid, not save helpless children. Who is this kid you have to help, anyway?"

"Get us onto a ship and away from any open ears, and I'll tell you. You'll like it, I promise." Suddenly, his eyes focused on something over shoulder, and a split second later, he leaned across the table and kissed her. Surprised, it took her a moment to realize what he was doing, but the click of military issue boots on the walkway behind her cleared it up. She pressed her palm to his cheek, effectively blocking the street's view of his face, and closed her eyes.

It was nearly a full minute before the officer passed by their table, at which point Obi-Wan finally broke the kiss and took a deep breath.

"Lucky you're with me, and not your little nephew." she said, grinning.

"Hush," he murmured. "you enjoyed it. Now, any ideas on how to get past our friends across the street?"

"Perhaps if they had somewhere else to be?" she swirled her caf around in her mug, thinking. "A sighting in another part of the city would draw most of them off, and you and I could take the rest."

"That could work." Said Obi-Wan, running his thumb along his jaw. "How to go about engineering a Jedi sighting, though?"

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to sacrifice your 'saber?" she asked. He said nothing, merely shooting her a Look. "Mm. Didn't think so."

"What about an explosion?" Asajj shrugged.

"Maybe. It'd have to be a ways away from here, though, and there's no guarantee they'll go for it." Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"Well, it's the best we've got, and we need to get off world as soon as possible. How close is your ship to the entrance of the port?"

"Maybe 300 meters? Nothing we can't handle. And she's fast enough to run the blockade, no problem. I've done it before, for jobs."

"That settles it then." He reached out and grabbed the arm of a small blonde girl. "If you're going to eavesdrop, dear, you may as well make yourself useful." he said. "If I give you this," he pulled a handful of credits from his belt. "Can you set off an explosion near the communication spire in the Residential District?" The girl nodded, wide brown eyes fixed on the gold tabs.

"Yeah Mister, I can do that. I need a grenade or something, though." Asajj pulled a thermal detonator from one of the pouches on her belt and handed it to her. The girl gripped it with both of her bony hands, keeping her fingers well away from the activator.

"Keep it quiet until you set it off, alright?"

"Okay. You want me to do it now?"

"As soon as possible, yes." said Obi-Wan with a slight smile, dropping the credits into her satchel. "Also," he added, "when trying to pickpocket or eavesdrop, one should always keep moving. That's how I spotted you." The girl offered him a shy smile, then took off, weaving between the beings on the walkway.

"Incredible," remarked Asajj offhandedly. "Do you pick up admirers everywhere you go, or is it just when I'm around?" Obi-Wan snorted.

"My entire teaching lineage is a magnet for strays, I'm afraid." he said with a rueful smile.

The girl had been true to her word. 15 minutes after she'd ducked into the crowd, the Troopers across the street started chattering to each other, their gloved hands tightening on their blaster grips. Across the table, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. The Force tightened around her, like the air before a storm, and she heard a soft voice in the back of her head, whispering that she really ought to check out that explosion, because it could definitely be the fugitive-

She snapped her head around to stare at Obi-Wan, barely noticing as the Stormtroopers set off, leaving six behind to guard the Spaceport entrance. As he stood up and offered her a hand, she asked, incredulous,

"Did you just mindtrick the whole street?" Obi-Wan shrugged.

"No, not really. Just a suggestion, and a weak one at that. If they hadn't just heard about our young friend's distraction, it wouldn't have done a thing."

"All the same, it was impressive. I suppose the media wasn't completely pulling things out of its ass during the war." At that, he laughed, and she smiled as well, anticipation swelling in her gut.

They made their way across the street, eyes on the remaining troopers. As they walked, Asajj slipped her hands around her back to her lightsaber hilts, strapped to her back where they wouldn't attract attention. Beside her, Obi-Wan released the catch on his wrist holster, silver hilt dropping into his palm.

"Ready?" he asked out of the corner of his mouth as the troopers turned toward them. Asajj didn't say anything, but she did smile, a wide, predatory smirk.

"Hey! I need to see your papers!" called the lead Stormtrooper, stepping in front of them.

"Will this do?" asked Asajj, holding her 'saber out, emitter first. The poor idiot actually leaned in to look at it, so she obliged him, flicking the switch. With a _snap hiss_ , the blood red blade went through helmet, skull, and brains, and the trooper dropped soundless to the walkway. Asajj was already moving away before he hit the ground, snapping a kick into the next man's chest. The armor, cheap shit that it was, buckled under her Force-assisted blow, and he staggered back, gasping. She pressed her advantage, lunging forward and driving her lightsaber through his stomach. She was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan to her left as she spun right, away from the two dead Stormtroopers and toward their companion, who was rattling their coordinates off into his helmet comm. She blocked his first two shots, her 'saber a red blur in front of her. The third, she sent back into his unprotected neck, and he fell with a gurgle to the pavement.

Less than 10 seconds had passed since she'd turned her lightsaber on.

"Come on, then." Said Obi-Wan, a faint look of distaste pulling the corners of his mouth down. Typical Jedi. Asajj rolled her eyes and followed him into the Spaceport.

Five minutes later, a charcoal grey Aggressor Assault fighter blasted out of the Coronet Spaceport. Anyone watching from the planet's surface might have noticed that it was going rather faster than necessary for a takeoff.

* * *

A/N: I swear to God, the buddy bounty hunter/romance flick just writes itself. Reviews are my lifeblood.


	21. Flirting, Fighting, and Flying

10 BBY. Abregado-Rae. City of Abregado-Rae Spaceport.

By the time Luke's first (and last, incidentally) morning on Abregado-Rae rolled around, he was tired of Being on an Adventure. It had been fun last night, sure, as he and Sabé had walked through the Spaceport's brightly lit streets. Sabé had kept her hand on her blaster the whole time and everything. All in all, Luke had felt like the hero of the Holo program he and Mom watched on the weekends.

Oddly enough though, Intergalactic Secret Agent Satam never had nightmares about pirates and what they might be doing to his mother. Luke, on the other hand, did. By the time the sun finally lit their hotel room, Luke had barely gotten any sleep. It didn't help that Sabé got a comm call at around 0600 and then rushed him out the door and to a street vendor's stall for breakfast. Luke had no idea what was happening.

Still, thought Luke, as he ate a fruit turnover while Sabé checked over her blaster next to him, Abregado-Rae was kind of a cool place. There were beings of all shapes and sizes walking through its streets. It was nothing like Coruscant, or Naboo either. Luke, a little bored with watching Sabé, had started making up stories about random passersby. He'd just decided that the Devaronian across the street was actually an undercover secret agent hunting Rebels (Mom said they did that) when two beings approached his and Sabé's table. Sabé's head snapped up, but she relaxed almost immediately. Luke couldn't help but stare at the two. One was human, and he looked incredibly familiar, but Luke couldn't quite place him. The other was a tall, slim Rattataki female, her ice blue eyes flitting back and forth around the crowded street. She carried no weapons, that Luke could see anyway, but Something prickled prickled nervously in the back of his head every time he looked at her.

"He didn't say he was sending you." said Sabé, sounding a little annoyed. Luke, who was a little in awe of Sabé and her ability to ignore the _dangerousdark_ dripping off of the Rattataki, dragged his attention back to her companion. The human chuckled.

"Apologies, Sabé." he said, inclining his head. "Any deception was strictly necessary, I assure you." Now, his warm grey eyes flicked to Luke. "Hello there, Young One." Sabé scowled, but she gave Luke a nudge. Remembering Mom's words, Luke racked his brain for a good fake name.

"I-I'm, uh, Ruwee." he said. "Ruwee Nertie. Sabé's my mom." he added, because he knew his lie hadn't been all that convincing. The man didn't even raise an eyebrow at Luke's obvious deception. He just kept smiling.

"Nice to meet you, Ruwee. My name's Ben." Luke summoned up a smile, but his attention was mostly on the Rattataki woman and the strange aura she gave off. She reminded him a little bit of Lord Malefus, actually. As a result, it was taking all of Luke's self control not to crawl into a hole and hide. "Ah," added Ben, who had noticed his staring. "This my friend." Luke noticed that he didn't give a name for her.

"Come on, _Ben._ " growled the woman, finally looking at her friend. "We're out in the open here, I don't like it." Luke looked up at Sabé, not sure what to do. She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Come on, Ruwee." She said. "We're going on a little trip to meet some of your mom's friends, alright?" It wasn't alright, _nothing_ was alright, but Luke nodded like it was, all the same.

The two beings led the way to a docking bay, marked with a faded 64. What waited there was almost enough to make Luke feel excited again, like he had the night before. It was sleek, dark grey and fast looking, and Luke could see its laser cannons from the bay entrance. In short, it was the average eight-year-old aspiring pilot's dream ship. In fact, Luke was so in awe, he completely forgot how scary the Rattataki woman was.

"What is that?" he asked. He was too busy staring at the fighter to see Asajj Ventress' smirk, but he did hear her answer.

"It's an Aggressor."

"It's yours?" asked Luke. "It's totally astral!"

"You've got a nice eye, for a little kid." she said. The sneer in her voice made Luke remember why he hadn't been talking to her before now. He swallowed his retort and shrugged instead, staring hard at the floor.

"Shall we?" said Ben, somewhere over Luke's head. He guessed Sabé agreed, because she placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him gently toward the ship's gangway, now descending to the bay floor. Luke walked obediently to the ship and climbed aboard behind Ben. The nameless Rattataki had already strapped herself into the pilot's seat. Ben settled down next to her, leaving Luke and Sabé to take two of the back seats. Apparently, Ben had been waiting to get aboard before he explained anything, because he turned to look at Sabé as the ship lifted off the ground, engines humming eagerly.

"It's good to see you again, Sabé." he said with a smile. Sabé didn't smile back.

"I thought you were dead, Master Jedi." she said flatly. Luke snapped his head up to stare at her. There was a snort from the pilot's seat, and Ben opened his mouth, but Luke interrupted.

"You're a Jedi?!" he exclaimed. "But the Jedi are gone!" Jedi were criminals, traitors to the Old Republic, but Luke was not afraid. After all, he supposed, Mom had almost been arrested by the Emperor, right? Clearly, not all criminals were bad news. Ben raised one gingery eyebrow at Sabé. She shrugged.

"What? Until yesterday afternoon, I thought you were dead, Master Kenobi. Padmé didn't tell me or the boy anything." Under normal circumstances, Luke might have taken issue with the anger in Sabé's voice when she said Mom's name, but as it was, he had been completely sidetracked.

"Master Kenobi?" he asked, voice shooting up an octave. "As in General Obi-Wan Kenobi?" The Jedi sighed.

"Yes, Luke." he said softly, sending panic through Luke's veins. How could he know who Luke was? Could Jedi read minds? He was maybe he ought o be afraid of Ben-no, _Obi-Wan_ after all.

"Calm down, Young One." said the Jedi, and a gentle wave of exactly that washed over Luke. "I am a very good friend of your mother's. I've known her nearly as long as Sabé has." And Sabé hadn't tried to shoot him yet, so Luke supposed he was telling the truth.

"Did Mom tell you about me?" he asked, for surely that was the only way the Jedi could know his name.

"She didn't have to." said General Kenobi. "I was there with her when you were born." Luke was too busy processing the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi had probably held him as a baby to see the man open his mouth again, only for Sabé to shake her head sharply and mouth "not now" at him. Luke focused in time to see the Jedi shrug. He then proceeded to grill Sabé about what had happened on Coruscant and with the pirates. Luke, who didn't really want to think about any of that, chose to look through the viewport at the stars. The Rattataki pilot glanced back at him once, but she didn't say anything. Luke watched until the ship pulled free of Abregado-Rae's gravity well and she sent it into hyperspace.

* * *

Luke seemed exhausted, and Sabé took him to a bunk barely half an hour after the ship entered hyperspace. While she was gone, Obi-Wan took a few deep breaths in lieu of meditation. Padmé's old friend was very clearly angry, and he was not exactly looking forward to her return without Luke's presence as a buffer. Beside him, Asajj rolled her eyes.

"You're telling me that's the Hero With No Fear's son?" she asked. "He's wimpy." She smirked. "Then again, I always thought Skywalker was overhyped." Obi-Wan scowled at her.

"He's eight, Ventress." he said. "And you know full well that Anakin is nothing if not brave." She laughed.

"Touchy." she said. "Just a joke, Kenobi. You ought to be used to me by now." Obi-Wan found himself grinning.

"Yes, well, you still mange to surprise me from time to time." They sat in companionable silence until Sabé returned, shutting the cockpit door behind her. The small brunette dropped into her seat with a heavy sigh.

"Right." she said. "What the kreth is a Sith doing with you?" Asajj's eyes narrowed dangerously. Fearing a catastrophe, Obi-Wan said quickly,

"She's no Sith, and Palpatine would like very much to kill her." Asajj let out her breath, and Obi-Wan continued. "She was living on the same planet that I chose to settle on. As we are no longer on opposing sides of a war, we saw no reason that we couldn't be allies." Asajj snorted at his word choice, but Obi-Wan was not about to get into details of his sex life with Sabé Vertie. "Now, what do you know?" Sabé didn't look ready to let the issue of Asajj's presence go, but she crossed her arms and sighed.

"I know about Padmé and Skywalker, and that Luke has a twin sister. I also know that Bail Organa and Mon Mothma started some sort of resistance movement, and that they can give Luke and I shelter. She wanted us to go to Mothma on Dac." Obi-Wan nodded.

"I can do you one better." he said. "We can take you to Senator Organa. His position is better hidden than Senator Mothma's." Sabé nodded.

"Alright. Luke's safety is what's most important. What are your Rebels doing about Padmé?" Obi-Wan sighed.

"The last I heard, Bail was putting out feelers to try and find the pirates that captured her ship. From what Bail said, I suspect Anakin will be looking for her as well, once Leia's somewhere safe." At Sabé's questioning look, he elaborated; "Luke's sister." She frowned.

"Surely Organa's not allowing that? If the Empire gets its claws on him-" Obi-Wan nodded.

"You're right. As soon as we drop you and Luke off, I'm going after him."

"As usual." interjected Asajj, who was now sitting cross-legged in her chair, cleaning her lightsaber hilts. Obi-Wan hummed in agreement. "Hang on." said Asajj. "Did you say Padmé hadn't told you or Luke anything? Does that mean-"

"He doesn't know." she said. "Any of it. All Padmé told him was that she's a fugitive from the Empire because she disagrees with Palpatine. He doesn't know about Rebels, or the Purges, or who his father is."

"Damn." said Obi-Wan, stroking his chin. He had never managed to kick the habit, despite having been clean-shaven for eight years now. "That complicates things."

"Yes, that's one way of putting it." Sabé's tone implied that her preferred method of putting it involved quite a bit more profanity than Obi-Wan's had.

"What shall we say, then?"

"We'll tell them what he told you." she said, after a moment's consideration. "His name is Ruwee, and he's my son." Mildly relieved, Obi-Wan nodded, and Sabé went on. "Viceroy Organa and Mon Mothma will know, of course, but if we dye his hair, we ought to fool everyone else. As few people as possible should know who he is before he does, after all."

"Can't you just tell him who he is?" asked Asajj, rolling her eyes.

"I don't think it's my place." said Sabé. "If Padmé didn't tell him, there must be a reason, right?"

"Indeed." said Obi-Wan quickly. "And with any luck, she'll be back before anyone has time to wonder about him. Now, that's settled. We've about seven hours in hyperspace before we reach our destination. We just need to explain to Luke what's expected of him when we get there."

Sabé left the cockpit soon after, and Asajj turned to Obi-Wan.

"Don't think you're fooling me, you coward." she said. "Whatever her reasons are, you're just trying to avoid telling the brat that his mother's been lying to him his whole life." Obi-Wan smiled ruefully.

"You know me too well, my darling."

* * *

10 BBY. Florrum.

Honestly, Padmé supposed, she was having a fairly lucky day. After all, Hondo Ohnaka was an immensely preferable host compared to Emperor Palpatine. Also, she'd been kidnapped by quite possibly the only criminal mastermind in the Galaxy who had a sense of honor. The Hutt Council, for example, would almost certainly have thrown her to the Imperial Navy if it had shown up on their doorstep.

Now, this was all true when thought about rationally, but Padmé Naberrie Amidala Skywalker was (understandably) not in the most rational mood. In fact, as she was wearing utterly filthy pirate rags, her hair was in painfully tight braids, and she was currently seated on one Captain Ike Alatar's lap, Padmé thought she was allowed to feel a little sorry for herself.

Her hands wouldn't stop shaking. So much for being the picture of iron will in front of the pirates.

Padmé had newfound sympathy for the Senate's Organized Crime Task Force, if all criminal bosses were as good as Hondo. In less than an hour, the pirate and his men had completely hidden everything, from evidence of their illegal spice trade to the military grade black market weapons. Even Hondo's rather impressive ship collection had been concealed beneath the compound. Hondo, in an effort to protect his own back, was committed to making sure the Empire didn't find her in his compound. To this end, Padmé had traded her dusty, but still obviously high quality, gown for a pair of fatigue style pants, work boots, and a gray jacket with a wide hood, which she'd pulled low over her face. Between the clothes and her braided hair, she hoped she'd pass for one of the female weequay who frequented Hondo's bar.

The Empire didn't bother knocking. One second, the bar was full of music and laughter, the next, it was full of smoke as the door blew off of its hinges. Stormtroopers poured through the gap, blasters at the ready. Hondo's men leapt to their feet as one, but none of them were bold enough to draw guns on Imperial troops, to Padmé's relief. Hondo remained seated at the bar, a drink in his hand. He looked for all the universe as though armed men broke down his door every day.

"Ah, gentlemen!" he called, spreading his arms wide. "Welcome to Florrum. Would any of you care for a drink?"

"You'll keep your mouth shut, Pirate, unless you want to spend tonight in our brig." snapped a cold voice from behind the troopers. Padmé leaned forward a tad, just enough to see around Alatar's outflung arm, praying to all the Goddesses that her luck would hold out.

A moment later, she breathed a sigh of relief. The officer who'd spoken was small and angular, with a face rather like a marsh rat. Most importantly, however, Padmé didn't recognize him. She leaned back against Alatar's chest, her heart racing. The big pirate captain, thankfully, didn't seem to find her particularly attractive; he hadn't so much as looked at her chest, let alone taken advantage of the fact that she was sitting on his lap.

The rat-faced Imperial officer stalked forward, chest puffed out, past his troops and directly up to Hondo's chair. As he passed her, one of the troopers turned his faceplate to her shadowed face. Padmé's heart leapt into her mouth, but she resisted the urge to go for Alatar's blaster, which was strapped to his leg, just a few inches from her left hand. After the longest moment of Padmé's life, the trooper looked away again, turning his faceplate back to his superior's gray back.

"Mr- Ohnaka, is it?" asked the officer, looking down his nose at Hondo, who deliberately spread his arms and smiled widely.

"Yes indeed. I am Hondo Ohnaka, the leader of this modest little trade outpost." He leaned forward. "What, may I ask, is the nature of your very welcome visit?" The officer, whose insignia plate Padmé couldn't see, smirked.

"I am here to establish a garrison on this world, in order to-ah-civilize it, in the name of our Emperor. Congratulations, Mr. Ohnaka." Here, his smirk turned downright nasty. "You have just been afforded the protection of the Imperial Navy."

Hondo made a reply, but Padmé wasn't listening anymore. Her heart was sinking. If the Empire was establishing a presence on Florrum, it would be highly difficult for her to escape. There was very little shipping traffic, which meant every ship that entered or left Florrum's atmosphere would be subject to search, and nothing would fall through the cracks. Why, oh, why couldn't Hondo have set up his pirating operation on a halfway-civilized world?

Padmé sighed softly, and clenched her fists at her in her lap.

She was trapped here, and the Empire hadn't even had to _try_ to catch her. Somewhere, she was certain, Palpatine was laughing at her.

* * *

A/N: I am a cruel writer. Poor Padmé really doesn't deserve this. And yet, somehow, her life is still better than in canon. I'm bitter. Reviews are all that is good in the world.


	22. Enter the Gambler

10 BBY. An Undisclosed Location in the Outer Rim.

Bail Organa leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. Honestly, if anyone had told him 8 years ago how incredibly tedious it was to set up a viable resistance movement, he might have reconsidered doing it. As a senator, both under the Republic and the Empire, Bail had had a few informants on his payroll, but it was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the information network he was attempting to coordinate now.

He had agents on most of the Empire's newest colonies, reporting on troop movements and the needs of the population. What with Mon's help, the Alliance generally had the money to send supplies and relief to the Empire's victims. Bail balked at violence; Alderaani were a peaceful people, and Bail liked to think he was as well. However, there were rebel cells on several planets, most notably Bellassa, who frequently engaged in acts of terrorism against Imperial forces. Bail was in the process of gathering information about them, in the hope of combining forces.

He knew it was hypocritical, but Bail Organa was no general. He was a diplomat, a politician, a leader, yes, but not a soldier. Luckily, he did have a few friends who were. Jan Dodonna had already proved himself an invaluable strategist, and was in the midst of planning a coordinated strike against the Empire's premiere shipyards at Tallaan. Likewise, Obi-Wan Kenobi was a truly gifted military commander.

All the same, when Bail thought of leading an armed resistance movement, he'd somehow never pictured the hours upon hours of requisitions, maintenance reports, and intelligence reports he'd have to sift through. He looked askance at his datapad. 56 messages unread, all with files attached. Heaving another sigh, Bail hunched back over his desk and went back to work.

He'd read for barely five minutes, though, when there was a knock at his office door. Grateful for the respite, Bail called in his visitor, who turned out to be a young boy, likely the child of an Alliance worker. The boy held out a datapad, and said breathlessly:

"Commander Larot asked me to bring this to you, sir, said you'd want to see it." Bail smiled graciously, and took the pad from the boy. The message was from his chief of intelligence, its news made his heart lighten.

 _Our friend from 5_ _th_ _fleet has made contact. En route now to our location. Has some equipment we can make use of._

So, his compromised agent, the one who'd informed him about the leak just in time to warn Padmé, had gotten away clean. That, combined with his message from Obi-Wan that morning, made for a pretty good day.

Now, if he could just find Padmé and Skywalker, one of whom could quite literally be anywhere, and the other didn't want to be found.

Feeling the beginning of a massive headache, Bail dismissed the boy, with a request that he ask the galley to send up a pot of tea. He had the feeling he'd need it, and maybe a splash of brandy as well.

* * *

10 BBY. Nar Shaddaa.

The Sabacc den, such as it was, had been set up in an abandoned warehouse near the spacedocks. Han had been in a quite a few card joints, both legit and illegal, in his 'employment' under Shrike, and this one was by far the seediest he'd ever seen. The only reassuring thought in his mind was that at least his ankle didn't hurt anymore. Anakin's bacta wrap was good stuff. Behind him, Her Tiny Majesty was practically radiating disgust, but her dad seemed at ease. In fact, he looked just like several of the spacers sitting at tables, with the exception of his eyes, which were clear and alert, rather than glazed over from spice, alcohol, or both.

"Right," said Anakin, tipping his head down so as not to be heard. "Who's playing for a ship?" Han shrugged.

"Probably most of 'em." he said. "Look over there, see the holo?" he asked, with a surreptitious gesture at the nearest table, above which floated a holo of a small starfighter. "That'll be what they're playing for. What kinda ship do you want? Just remember, the more expensive ones'll be way harder games." The man exhaled sharply through his nose, in a silent laugh.

"Yeah, I got that." His blues eyes flicked back and forth across the crowded warehouse, taking in the various games. "That one." he murmured, with a nod towards a table in the corner, thrown into deep shadow. Han sighed.

"It's always the dark corner, isn't it?" he muttered to himself. "Can you actually play Sabacc?" Anakin shrugged.

"I've done it before."

"Okay," hissed Han. "But where? Playin' out here'll be way different from in any halfway civilized place." If this place was half as nasty as rumors said, the loser was likely to cheat, and _then_ stab you when you beat them.

"Shut up!" hissed the little brat. "People are staring." She wasn't exactly _right,_ but a few of the less intoxicated patrons had started glancing their way, so Han stifled his response and started weaving between tables, toward the corner Anakin had indicated.

The table was occupied by two players: a Sullustan male, and a curly haired human who looked to be a few years older than Han. As their little group approached, Anakin flipped the little brat's hood up to cover her face. Not for the first time, Han wondered who was chasing them, because someone very clearly was. Probably the Hutts, if they were here. Still wondering what some spacer and his daughter could have done to piss the Hutt Council off, Han made to step aside to let Anakin sit down. Before he could take the step, though, his new acquaintance gave him a nudge between the shoulder blades, pushing him half a step toward the table. Han knew better than to look back, so he just shrugged and leaned over with a jaunty grin.

"So, fellas, that's a nice lookin' ship." he said. "Mind if I jump in?" The Sullustan's wide eyes narrowed, glinting in the dim light, but the human leaned forward into the light of the holo with a wide grin of his own.

"Sure," he said, gesturing toward the empty seat across from him. "The more the merrier, I always say. Your friends are welcome to join too."

"Nah, I'm not much of a gambler." said Anakin, shrugging. "He's the one who enjoys the game." Han grinned again, hoping it didn't appear too forced, and slid into the proffered seat.

"House rules?" he asked, as the dealer droid spat his hand out at him.

"Standard rules, Corellian Gambit." Grunted the Sullustan. Han nodded, and glanced down at his gently glowing cards. Not a half bad hand, but he'd need better if he wanted the ship.

Four rounds later, Han was beginning to regret picking this table. The Sullustan was a shrewd player, and his natural features made it nearly impossible to read his facial expressions. However, the real problem was the other human. His laid-back demeanor masked a Sabacc demon, as it turned out. And as far as Han could tell, (and, being Corellian, Han had seen a lot of Sabacc) he wasn't even cheating. He was just a damn good gambler. In fact, Han had never been so tempted to cheat himself. He'd never needed to before, but this guy was something else.

It happened on the fifth round. Han drew a 13 and a 6, but on the shifting round, the card's surface shimmered and shifted into, not the 10 that he needed, but a 7. 20. Just 3 points off. That was close, damn close. Maybe even close enough to win. The Sullustan laid his cards down with a disgusted noise. -24, a bomb out. Han had to grin at that. As he made to lay his own cards down, though, a thought popped into his head that most definitely did not belong to him. In fact, if thoughts had a sound, this one sounded remarkably like Anakin's voice.

 _Wait. Swap your 6 out. He has 22 in his hand, and the next card's a 10._

Years of practice let Han keep his face straight, which he thought was impressive, considering that the guy he'd met an hour ago was apparently telepathic. Han sighed again, and swapped his cards out. Sure enough, the top card was a 10. Keeping his face a blank mask, Han laid his cards down.

The effect was immediate. His opponent swore softly under his breath and dropped his own cards on the table. The 12 and 10 winked up at the players, almost tauntingly. The human sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his dark curls.

"Well, friend, looks as though you've won," he reached for a pocket in his blue shirt and withdrew a small datachip. "Your ignition codes."

"You'll forgive me if we ask you to come along and make sure they work, I'm sure." said Anakin flatly.

"Of course, of course." said the young man. "I'd think less of you if you didn't. The docking bay's just a few hundred meters from here. I'll lead the way." He rose, and then looked back over his shoulder at them. "Name's Lando, by the way. Lando Calrissian."

As the four of them walked to the boy's hangar, Anakin's gaze did not leave the back of Han Solo's head. In warning him about the other boy's winning hand, he'd given away his Force-sensitivity. From there, it wouldn't take an intelligent kid like Solo long to figure out why he and Leia were so anxious to get off world. The Force seemed to like the kid, but Anakin had been fooled before.

They had a ship, but at what cost? He'd have to keep an eye on Solo, if possible.

They walked in a loose group, with the two boys in front, and Anakin in the back. He didn't dare take Leia's hand. Out here on the street, it would attract too much attention, and he didn't want to give Calrissian a reason ot remember them. He wished he could, though. She'd been quiet the past few hours, ever since they'd walked into the sabacc den, and he was beginning to worry about her. Feeling his worry through their bond, she looked up at him, eyes glinting under her wide hood, and offered him a halfhearted smile.

"What's the matter, Princess?" he asked softly.

"I dunno," said Leia. "Just feel like something's wrong, or maybe gonna be wrong soon?" she frowned. "I can't tell. Just don't feel right."

"Okay." said Anakin, squeezing her shoulder gently. "We'll be careful, I promise." She smiled again, small, but genuine this time.

Calrissian had told the truth; his docking bay wasn't far from the old warehouse turned sabacc den. As for the ship, it looked decidedly decrepit.

"What is this thing?" asked Han, voice cracking on the first word.

"It's a modified YT-1300." said the young gambler. "She doesn't look like much, I'll grant you, but she's been well looked after, and she's the fastest ship in the Outer Rim. Handles like a dream, too, if you treat 'er right." And actually, now that Anakin looked, really looked at the ship, she was a bit of a beauty. In the Force, he could see how well her parts worked together, as if they she were a whole, rather than individual pieces.

"She'll do," he said. "If your chip actually works." The boy grinned, teeth very white against his dark skin.

"Jeez, you guys are paranoid." He said. "If I agreed to come with you, you can assume I'm being honest with you, right?"

"Whatever." said Han. "Just show us the codes, huh?"

"Right." said Calrissian. "Here's the engine sequence, and then you'll be good to go, assuming you know how to charge up the hyper and the navis." Anakin nodded in confirmation. Beside him, Leia gasped and grabbed for his hand.

"What is it?" he asked, dropping to one knee in front of her. Before she could say anything, though, he felt it; a sharp, freezing twist in the Force that made his stomach turn. A split second later, a starfighter, flying low and slow, screeched over the Nar Shaddaan space docks, green blaster bolts streaking from her guns. As it shot overhead, Anakin felt the unmistakable presence of the Sith from Tatooine. He'd found them.

"Go!" he yelled, scooping Leia up in one arm and sprinting for the ship. He needn't have shouted, though, the boys were already running. Green streaks of light tore chunks from the docking bay's floor around them, and one impacted less than two feet from Calrissian, eliciting a high pitched yelp from the boy. The frieghter's access ramp descended as they reached it, and the four of them boarded as the Sith's fighter swung around for another pass. Him. The Sith was after him, not Leia, and not either of the boys.

There was one thing, and only one, that he could do to protect his daughter.

"Get moving!" growled Anakin. It had been an order, straight from his days as a General, and Calrissian snapped to it, taking off down the narrow corridor toward the freighter's cockpit. A few moments later, the ship's systems blinked on, and a low hum filled the air as her engines cycled up. Now or never.

Anakin turned to Han Solo. The boy was scared, but not panicking, and his hand was firmly on his blaster. A fighter.

"Listen to me." He said, too low for Leia to hear. Immediately, the boy's attention snapped to him. "I can't come with you, I have to deal with this guy or you won't get off world." Han didn't argue. "The ship, this ship, it's yours, just promise me you'll take care of her, get her to my people. She'll know how to find them." Solo hesitated a moment, but he nodded, determination in his green eyes.

Right, that was the easy part. Now, the harder one.

Anakin knelt down beside Leia. She might never forgive him for this, but it didn't make it any less necessary.

"Leia, I'm gonna lead him off, alright?" Her eyes went wide.

"What? Dad, no-"

"Shh, Princess. It's the only way to make sure he doesn't follow you. I need you to listen to me, okay? If anyone asks, you're Leia Starseeker, just like on Tatooine, right?" she nodded, lip trembling, and he continued. "You remember Auntie Ahsoka, don't you? And the comm frequencies?" Leia's small fists clenched, and she nodded. "Go to her. She'll look after you until I get back. Repeat the frequency number to me."

"Z-zero-zero-two-f-four-one." she said, sniffling. Anakin nodded. "Okay. Stay with Han until you find Ahsoka, okay?" Leia sniffled, and smiled halfheartedly.

"The Force likes him." she mumbled. Anakin grinned reflexively.

"Yeah, it does, huh? Alright, my little Princess, I gotta go, before Lando takes off. Be safe, I love you more than anything else in this whole Galaxy, and I _will_ see you again, I swear." Leia nodded, eyes brimming with tears.

"You better." she said sternly. Anakin pulled her tight against his chest, felt her tears on his jacket. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and, on reflex, shrugged the jacket off and wrapped it around her small shoulders.

"So you won't be cold," he whispered. "May the Force be with you, Princess." She said nothing in return, but stood, tears on her cheeks, and watched him go, his jacket huge on her slight frame. As the freighter's engines rumbled, Anakin dove out of the closing access ramp, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. He landed lightly on the duracrete landing pad, and dropped his shields, broadcasting his location to the fighter's pilot. Immediately the ship pulled up, whipping around to make another pass by the docking bay, and Anakin sprinted for the main city.

 _Come and get me, you Sith-blasted son of a Hutt._

* * *

The ship lifted off the ground just as Han reached the cockpit, where Calrissian was frantically activating the shields.

"Come on, come on, come on baby, don't let me down!" he muttered, gripping the controls tight. Han slid into the copilot's seat. Behind him, Leia slipped into the cockpit as well, still draped in her dad's jacket.

Lando pulled the freighter's nose up, almost straight up, and cleared the bay wall by meters, before firing the engines again and sending them rocketing away from the ground. Behind him, the starfighter pulled up hard, and whipped around, away from them and back toward the spaceport. Leia made a soft whimpering noise, and when she climbed up into the seat beside him, Han didn't have the heart to snap at her.

It was too wide for him, anyway. Lando pulled the ship into a steep climb, headed for Nar Shaddaa's atmosphere. Before they got more than a thousand meters, though, there was a telltale scream from behind them. TIEs, two of them. Han swore, and Lando fired the engines again, putting on a burst of speed.

"We're coming up too fast, the transition-" began Han.

"Yeah, we are." Growled the other boy. "Being a little uncomfortable here is better than being down there with those fighters, at least in my opinion. "Get on the ventral quad cannon. It'll swivel 360 degrees." Han nodded sharply, and slid from the seat.

"Strap in, kid." He murmured to Leia. He didn't wait to see if she listened. He took the ladder at more of a scramble than a climb, and pulled the headset on, noting abstractedly that it was too big for him. The gun's screen flickered on as it charged up, and Han started firing. The TIEs were quick little things, but their outsized wings were a vulnerability, and within two minutes, Han had brought one down.

 _Don't get cocky._

There was still one more out there.

Han kept firing. The guns were beautifully designed, and, under different circumstances, it would have been really fun to fire them. As it was, Han was two seconds away from panicking. A kid. He'd been given responsibility for a kid. Hells, he was a kid himself? How the Sith-blasted hells was he supposed to take care of an eight year old kid? And a _girl_ at that?

Nope, firing the beautifully crafted quad cannon was definitely a better use of his time than panicking. So that was what Han did, until the second TIE exploded into a shower of blasted metal. They were in space now, stars winked gently around them.

Them, and the Star Destroyer currently deploying its fighters. Kreth, this day just kept getting better, didn't it? He scrambled for the cockpit.

"Please tell me you're about to jump to hyperspace?" he said, gripping the back of Leia's seat.

"Yeah, navi says 10 more seconds, then we're good." Han gripped the seat a little harder, his knuckles turning white.

10 seconds later, as the first TIEs started blasting towards the freighter in earnest, Lando pulled the hyperspace lever. The sublight engines roared, and the stars stretched out

* * *

Lando Calrissian breathed a sigh of relief, or several sighs, or, okay, he maybe hyperventilated just a little bit, as the stars warped around the _Falcon,_ taking her away from the Star Destroyer. While he did his best to breathe normally again, the weedy sabacc playing boy slumped over the back of the Copilot's seat in relief.

Beside him, the girl buried her face in her hands.

"What happened?" asked Lando. "Where's your friend?" There was no response from the girl, but the boy raised his head.

"Stayed behind to draw the fighter off." He dropped into the Copilot's chair beside the girl, who was now crying quietly into her hands. "Easy, kid," he said softly, wrapping a stiff arm around her. "He'll be fine."

"You don't understand!" she cried. "They'll kill him if they catch him, that's the whole reason that guy was here!" she paused to take a deep, shuddering breath. "He's been chasing us since Tatooine." she finished miserably. Lando felt for her, he really did. Poor kid was maybe 8, and out here all alone. It was no life for a little girl.

"Where are we headed?" asked the boy.

"Mid Rim. Planet called Axxila. After that though, the ship's yours. You won 'er, fair and square."

"I have to call her." said the girl shakily. Her tears had dried now, but her hands were still shaking.

"Who?" asked the boy.

"My Aunt. One of Dad's friends, he wanted me to go to her. Her name's Ahsoka."

"Well, that's settled then," said Han. "We'll go to Axxila, let Lando here get back to his life, and then we'll call your dad's friend." He squeezed the girl's shoulder. "We're gonna be okay, Your Highness." She scowled.

"'M not a princess. 'M just Leia." She tucked the overlarge jacket more firmly around herself. Lando dropped against the back of the seat with a sigh.

What a day. He was definitely going to miss his business appointment. Damn, that Mandalorian bounty hunter was gonna be pissed, too.

* * *

A/N: Your writer has too many feelings about everyone and feels the need to include all the characters in this godforsaken space opera. Reviews are good.


	23. High Treason and the Right Thing to Do

10 BBY. Mandalore, Capital city of Keldabe.

Niro Arana was a Commander in the best Special Operations force the Galaxy had to offer, had graduated top of his class from the Empire's elite Spec Ops Training Academy, was trained in countless interrogation techniques, and had worked under the second most dangerous man in the Galaxy for the past three years.

So why, _why_ couldn't he stop his hands from shaking as he walked down his cell block?

Perhaps because in approximately 10 minutes, he was going to become a traitor, and in, at most, 20 minutes, he'd be marked for death by the very military he'd served in for 6 years. This was what he got for having a conscience.

He'd prepared, at least. The night after his call from Tarkin, Arana had stayed up plotting his betrayal. The obvious choice, of course, was to release Ahsoka Tano and her band of insurgents from prison and join their movement. They wouldn't want him to, but he had collateral, an offer they'd be stupid to refuse. He'd thought about destroying the Command Center, too, but he didn't want to kill the men who worked under him. They, like him, were mostly pawns in the Emperor's game. He remained convinced that the Empire itself wasn't inherently evil, merely incredibly mismanaged and taken advantage of by sadistic tyrants like Tarkin. And Malefus. Arana was going to enjoy spitting in Malefus' face, if nothing else. Take that, three years of impossible tasks and ridicule.

Tano's cell was near the middle of the cell block, and Arana dismissed the guards easily. It was standard interrogation procedure, after all. When they'd gone, he activated the jammer in his uniform pocket. The cameras would malfunction for about half an hour before his technicians could reset them, he knew from experience. Finally, Arana took a deep breath. This was it; the point of no return. If he pushed the access button, he was a traitor. There would be no going back.

He clenched his fists, and pushed it. The door slid open with a hiss.

* * *

Ahsoka was leaning against the back wall, trying to come up with a viable escape plan, when the heavy door slid open. Immediately, she sat up straight, lifting her chin and schooling her expression into careful blankness. It was Arana, the Commander who'd interrogated her twice already over the past three days.

"What can I do for you today, Commander?" she asked mockingly. Then, she took a second look at him. This was not the calm, put together man who'd so politely threatened Zatt and Rex. Today, he was pale and shaky, sweat turning his face and neck shiny under the harsh lights. He let the door hiss shut behind him, and then approached her slowly, the scent of, not fear, but nerves, permeating the cell. When he reached her, he said nothing, though he did swallow nervously, adam's apple bobbing. Ahsoka cocked her head to the side and waited to see what he'd do next.

He surprised her. He pulled a chip from his pocket and slipped it into the slot in her Force Suppressor cuffs. They immediately snapped apart, and he pulled them ever so gently from her aching wrists.

She didn't waste any time. The moment her hands were free, she dropped, planting her palm against the durasteel floor and twisting, throwing a hard kick under his chin. He flew backwards, and, using her momentum, Ahsoka launched herself at him, her knee slamming into his chest just before he hit the ground. She crouched low over the officer's prone body and pressed her forearm to his windpipe, as he moaned.

"What," she hissed, "do you think you're playing at?" He made a croaking noise, and she lessened the pressure of her arm on his throat.

"I-I'm breaking you out." he said hoarsely. Ahsoka was so astounded that she actually sat up a bit. She narrowed her eyes.

"So I'll lead you to my friends? Think again, Imperial scum!" she snapped.

"No-no, I'm betraying the Empire." he said. Distantly, she noticed his blaster, strapped to his thigh and well within reach since she'd straightened up. He hadn't gone for it. "Use the Force, Jedi. You'll see that I'm telling the truth." And yes, now that her control was coming back in little threads, she could feel the truth of his words. Hesitant, she stood up and backed up a few steps.

"Why?" she asked, her voice coming out unsure as a Youngling. Arana scrambled to his feet.

"Your friend. The Zabrak boy. He-he's dead. Grand Moff Tarkin personally congratulated me on capturing him." A stab went through Ahsoka's heart, but she'd already known, really, the second he'd been shipped off to Palpatine.

"That's how your Empire does things, Commander." she said softly. He nodded, unable to meet her gaze.

"I know. I understand that now. I thought-before-I-It doesn't matter. I understand now. You were right. I didn't know which side I'd chosen, but now I do. I see that boy's face every time I close my eyes."

"Mashan." she said. "His name was Mashan Armess."

"I'm breaking you out, and I want to join your rebel group." Ahsoka laughed.

"It doesn't work like that, Imp. I believe you're not trying to set me up, but that doesn't mean I trust you. Not by a long shot." He nodded again.

"I didn't expect you to. And you don't have to, but I have information that will help you. Information on the Command here that could cripple it, and potentially, much of the Special Ops Command." Ahsoka crossed her arms. They couldn't really afford not to take his information. Keldabe was blown, they'd have to leave, but if his intel was good, Senator Organa would definitely need it. Arana wasn't finished yet, either. "There's more. For the past three years, my direct superior has been Lord Malefus himself. I know things about him, things that could help. And more, I can give you intelligence that the Empire is desperate to keep hidden. Tarkin told me yesterday when he congratulated me. Exactly what they learned from Mashan." That clinched it. The Rebellion _had_ to know what Palpatine had ripped out of Mashan's head.

"Alright." she said with a sigh. When we leave, we'll take you with us. But I'm not leaving without my friends and my lightsabers."

"Of course not." Said Arana, and, for the first time since he'd opened her cell door, a smile crept across his face. "I have a plan."

"That's what I like to hear." said Ahsoka, with a smile of her own.

"Come on. The cameras will be out down here for another 25 minutes or so. We need to be gone by then."

"How are we going to get past the troopers?"

"There aren't any down here, I sent them off, and as for the rest of the base, don't worry about it. I told you, I have a plan." He ducked out of the cell, and Ahsoka followed, massaging her wrists. Arana led her to Zatt's cell first. Now that the Force binders were gone, she could feel the boy's presence, like a cool, calm lake of water against her mind.

"You didn't put binders on him?" she asked, confused. He cast her a startled look over one shoulder.

"No, of course no- he's a Jedi too?" Ahsoka grinned.

"Yeah." Arana's eyes widened.

"No wonder your cell's been so gods-damned hard to track down!" he hissed. "And here I was, thinking I'd lost all my training, being outsmarted by children!"

"To be fair," said Ahsoka, as he unlocked Zatt's cell. "You were still being outsmarted by children. The youngest person in my cell is 16."

"Well, yes," he said. "But Jedi children are an entirely different kettle of giju from normal ones." The cell door opened with a hiss, revealing Zatt's wide eyes. He was immediately on his feet and glaring at the officer, and Ahsoka stepped quickly into the cell to diffuse the tension.

"Easy. He's with us." she said, holding up her hands. Zatt eyed her for a few moments, suspicious, but then his shoulders relaxed.

"Okay." He followed them out into the corridor, glancing nervously at the cameras. Ahsoka undid his binders.

"He's jamming them." she explained.

Rex's cell, it seemed, was on the far end of the block, well away from the corridor leading out to the rest of the base. Arana unlocked the door, and this time, Ahsoka made sure she entered first. Zatt, an excellent Jedi, was not at all aggressive. Rex, on the other hand, was a soldier, a fighter, first.

"Hey, Rex." she said, grinning. "We're busting out of this joint. Care to join us?" His answering grin was bright as the stars, despite the tired shadows under his eyes.

"You know me, Sir, always up for ruining the Empire's day." He stood, and followed her into the corridor. He stopped short when he saw Arana, but he didn't say anything, just looked at her for confirmation.

"He's good." Rex nodded sharply, and took the rear position of their group.

"Weapons?" he asked.

"This way." Said Arana. "Normally, they'd be up in the armory, but in your case, I thought they'd be safer down here. I had them moved yesterday." He opened the very last cell in the block, and sure enough, there was a set of Phase II Clone armor, four 'saber hilts, three blaster pistols, and two well-worn deecees in their hip holsters on the bench. Ahsoka swept her 'sabers and Mashan's up, along with her blaster, and clipped them to her belt. Zatt did the same with his own, and Rex happily strapped his armor and holsters back on, after checking the charges on his twin guns.

"Right," said Arana, when they'd armed themselves. "There's a tunnel system, used for drainage, that will take us up to the street. It comes out in an alleyway. I checked last night, it'll be a tight squeeze, but we'll all fit."

"Who was the genius who built a tunnel system into a detention block?" asked Rex. Arana huffed a quiet laugh.

"I don't know. I was only stationed here a few years ago, and I believe the building was used for other things prior to the Empire appropriating it."

"Lead on, then." said Ahsoka. "We're short on time."

"Agreed." Arana turned to the end of the block, where, indeed, there was a grate in the wall, welded in place. Ahsoka's 'sabers made quick work of it, and they climbed through, Arana first and Ahsoka bringing up the rear.

The tunnels were straightforward, taking them about a mile from the Imperial Garrison, and ending with a ladder back to the surface. Ahsoka was the last to scramble up. Rex reached down and took her hand, helping her out onto the street. As she replaced the grate in the sidewalk, an alarm screamed through the streets, emanating from the Garrison.

"Kreth." swore Ahsoka. "Let's go, team. We need to find the others and bail."

And so they ran, along the side streets and back alleys, doing their level best to stay out of sight. Arana's uniform would be a dead giveaway if they were spotted, as were Ahsoka's montrals. The Garrison was, unfortunately, on the opposite side of Keldabe from the West End, where their base was located, and they would have to sneak through the main city square in order to cross sides.

"Okay," said Ahsoka, pressed against a wall, gazing into the crowded city center. There were troopers everywhere, stopping random passersby and checking ID. "Any ideas?"

"Maybe if we skirt through the market?" suggested Zatt. "Plenty of shadows and otherworlders. We could maybe blend in."

"Not with Commander McImperial over here." said Rex, with a gesture at Arana's uniform, a bit rumpled, but still very recognizable.

"We could split up then." said Arana, a little hesitantly. "If I take one of you, I can bluster my way through the men, and the other two can make it through the market."

"No way-" started Rex, but Ahsoka laid a hand on his arm.

"We don't have much of a choice, Rexer. This is the best way." To Arana, she said, "I'll go with you. Rex, Zatt, you go through the market, and we'll meet you at the standard rendezvous." Rex looked as though he was going to argue, but his military training won out, and he nodded grudgingly instead. However, before they could put their plan into action, a shout rang out from the square, barely 50 meters from their alley:

"It's them! It's the Rebels!"

Rex swore fluently in a mixture of Mandoa'a and Huttese, and went for his deecees. Ahsoka spun to see troopers coming up the alleyway behind them.

"Kreth." she hissed. They were trapped. She drew her 'sabers, but Arana stepped forward, between them and the troopers.

"Commander!" called the leader, his orange pauldron marking him as a Captain. "What are you doing? We have the situation under control, you're safe now." Ahsoka almost rolled her eyes. The trooper was an idiot, but his blindness had given Arana an opportunity to betray them. She eyed the Imperial officer's back warily. If he renounced them now, she, Rex, and Zatt would go back to prison, and Arana would have his cushy command back.

"I regretfully inform you, Captain, that I am not being held against my will." said Arana, crossing his arms over his black uniform. "Rather, I am resigning my commission in the Imperial Special Operations Command, effective immediately." He lifted his chin in defiance, and Ahsoka breathed a quiet sigh of relief _._

The trooper took half a step back, confused, and Rex took advantage. The Captain dropped like a stone, the hole in his chest still smoking. Blaster bolts lit up the late afternoon shadow, and Ahsoka leapt into action.

She vaulted over Arana, blocking bolts while he drew his own blaster, and then she rolled out of his way, taking up a position beside Zatt.

They were going to lose; it was almost inevitable. If they'd had even one more ally, it would have been an even fight; there was no artillery in the square, or heavy reinforcements, but as it was, they were going to be recaptured.

Sure enough, the shots stopped a few moments later. Ahsoka's little band of rebels had been pushed backwards into the alleyway, and they were trapped between two squads of armored troops..

"Lay down your weapons, insurgents!" called the other trooper Captain. "You're under arrest!" Ahsoka wanted, with everything she had, to raise her blades, but she had Zatt to think of. He was 18, yes, but to her, he was just a kid, her apprentice. She'd already lost one of her charges, and she wasn't about to gamble with another's life. She closed her eyes, preparing to deactivate her lightsabers.

A shout from Rex made her open them again, just in time to see the Stormtrooper Captain drop to the ground, felled by a single shot. Ahsoka stared, openmouthed, as a blur of dark cloth and red hair dropped from the roof above, landing in their midst.

"We heard about a disturbance and a prison break, thought it must be you." Said Ko-Iri with a smile, as more shots streaked from the rooftops, felling troopers. Ahsoka grinned, and raised her 'sabers once more.

The Stormtroopers, leaderless as they were, panicked, their shots going wild. The three Jedi moved as one, the Force singing around them. Ahsoka's lightsabers were a double arc of deadly plasma, and trooper dropped before her like stones. The last few managed to organize enough to make a marginally orderly retreat. As soon as the shots stopped, Ahsoka sprinted for the cover of the alleyway, trusting the others to follow her.

They didn't stop running, not until they reached the street on which Five's was located. Ahsoka had never been so happy to see the run down bar. She ushered her friends and Arana inside, and then locked the door.

"Right," said Rex, as the motely group draped themselves over various pieces of furniture in the back rooms. "I think we can all agree that Mandalore's a bust." Seeing nods, he looked at Ahsoka. "What do you want to do next, Commander?"

"I think we should join the Senator." she said. "Like you said, Mandalore's a bust, and our new ally here has intel that is vital to Organa's operation."

"Senator Organa is really in charge of a rebel movement?" asked Arana. "Really? Gods, half of me was convinced the Empire was wrong about him. He's always seemed like such a pacifist." Ahsoka snorted.

"He is." she said. "But he's a friend of the Jedi, and of democracy, a loyal one." To the rest of her cell, she said, "So, are we agreed?" there were nods from both clones and Jedi.

"Erm-Master?" asked Ko-Iri. Ahsoka saw the question in her eyes, and shook her head, a fresh wash of grief rolling over her.

"He was sent to Coruscant. Palpatine killed him." she murmured. Ko-Iri's face crumpled. She and Mashan had been crèche-mates, and of the five Younglings who'd survived Order 66, they'd been the closest. Zatt reached for her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, shoulders hunched. Ahsoka closed her eyes.

She couldn't break down, not here. She had a job to do.

"Okay. If we're going, we need to get our gear together. All the weapons, intel, and anything that'll tell the Empire about us. Gather your things, we'll leave as soon as we can." They'd sold their ship for the down payment on this place, but she could probably hire one. Or Ko-Iri could, as her face wouldn't be plastered on wanted holos throughout the city. Ahsoka sighed.

She was in the quarters she shared with Ko-Iri, packing, when her Alliance comm beeped. Expecting her main Alliance contact, whose name she didn't know, Ahsoka answered it.

It was most definitely not her Alliance contact. Rather, it was a small, human girl with very familiar brown eyes and braids.

"Leia?" the girl nodded. "What's the matter, Skygirl?" Leia's bottom lip trembled at the nickname, and Ahsoka's stomach plunged toward her feet.

"D-Dad had to stay behind, to stop the Imp from following us, and-and-" she broke off.

"Is-is he-" Ahsoka couldn't finish the thought. It was unthinkable. Anakin was brave, reckless, and reliable. Not dead. _Not_ dead.

"I-no, I think I would've felt it. Can I stay with you? Please?" Her fingers were twisted tightly together, clenching and unclenching. Ahsoka smiled through her worry.

"Of course, Skygirl, of course you can. I can come pick you up, wherever you are." Leia shook her head.

"No, I-Han and I have a ship. Dad and I met him on the moon, and he promised he'd look after me. The ship's his." From out of the holo's range, Ahsoka heard a teenage boy's voice:

"The ship's _ours_ , Kid. I'd've lost that game if not for you two." Leia's mouth twitched.

"I'll send you my coordinates then. Is your channel secure?" Leia's eyes widened, confused. Ahsoka raised her hands.

"Don't worry about it kiddo, we'll manage. Comm me when you dock, and I'll come pick you up, alright?" Leia nodded hesitantly. Ahsoka typed in the coordinates for Mandalore's main spaceport. Leia looked offscreen for a few moments, then turned back.

"They came through. Han says we'll be there in four hours. I gotta go, we're about to jump."

"Okay," said Ahsoka, with a reassuring smile. "I'll see you in a few hours then, Skygirl."

"Thanks, Aunt 'Soka." The comm shut off. All the strength seemed to go out of Ahsoka's limbs. She sank to her bunk, nerveless. Her master couldn't, _couldn't_ be dead. (He wasn't, she could feel their bond, still firmly attached at both ends) But he was definitely in serious trouble, if he'd entrusted Leia's care to a near stranger.

'The Imperial' Leia had spoken of was almost certainly Lord Malefus, Palpatine's apprentice. Which meant, of course, that Anakin had a Sith Lord personally after him, to say nothing of Grand Moff Tarkin and the Imperial Navy.

It was too much. Mashan's death, her worry for Leia and Anakin, all of it came bubbling to the surface of her mind, stinging her eyes with salt. She dropped her head into her hands.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, trying to control herself, but at some point, Rex padded into her room and settled beside her on the bunk. She leaned gratefully against his arm, turning her face into his shoulder. He let her sob into his sleeve until she could breathe and function again, and then he offered her a tissue, still wordless.

"Thanks, Rex." she murmured, after blowing her nose. "'M sorry about your shirt."

"Don't worry about it, Ahsoka, it's just a shirt. You're a bit more important to me." She had to crack a smile at that.

"Anakin's in trouble." She explained. "Leia's on her way here, with some kid they met a few days ago."

"Damn." breathed Rex. "That's bad." Ahsoka nodded. "Well, then. We'll take the little one to base, and then we'll go rescue the General. Wouldn't be the first time, after all." She smiled.

"Remember Vanquor?" she asked softly. He chuckled.

"Oh, yeah, Gundarks and poison gas, how could I forget?" He sobered, then. "We've been together a long damn time, haven't we, Commander?" Ahsoka nodded again.

"You've had my back for almost half my life, Rex."

"Well, you've had mine for more than half of my life. Only seems fair." He took her hand, and squeezed it. "You're handling this shit just fine, Ahsoka, don't you dare start second guessing yourself." She squeezed back.

"Thanks. It just feels like the whole Galaxy's against us, sometimes." Rex laughed, releasing her hand and standing.

"That's because it is, Commander." He took her forearm and tugged her to her feet. "But we'll handle it. We always do."

"Don't ever leave me, Rex." she said lightly. His eyes, though, were dead serious when he answered.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

A/N: Reviews are nice. I like them.


	24. The Best Laid Plans of Senators

10 BBY. Mandalore, Capital City of Keldabe.

"Jeez, kid, why couldn't your Aunt be living on a less Imperial planet, huh?" Han nervously guided the ship - _Millenium Falcon,_ Calrissian had said her name was- toward the busy spacedocks, which were crawling with stormtroopers. He was half expecting a sharp retort from Leia, but the girl was quiet, watching the approaching duracrete landing pad with a lost look in her eyes. She'd had that expression that pretty much the whole trip, barely even mustering the energy to bid Lando farewell on Axxila.

Han didn't want to admit it, but he was worried about the kid. This silent staring was lightyears away from the loudmouthed, snippy kid he'd met on the Nar Shaddaan Strip, and honestly, he preferred the snarky comments and insults to the way she was now. Hells, she hadn't even cried, except for right after they'd blasted out of Nar Shaddaa. He hoped her Aunt would cheer her up, because he was apparently really bad at it.

Miraculously (Han couldn't wait to get at her wiring), the ship touched down with no issues. Han swept up Leia's little bag, and she slipped out of the copilot's seat, tucking her dad's jacket more firmly around her shoulders. Almost immediately after they disembarked, a trooper captain and two lackeys marched up to them and jabbed Han in the chest.

"Papers?" snapped the leader. Han's mind went blank with panic. He didn't have papers. Well, he had the _Falcon's_ registration papers, Lando'd given them to him, but he'd been 10 when the War had ended, and Shrike had never seemed too interested in official business.

Leia stepped forward, face pale. She rummaged around in her pocket for a moment, and came out with a datachip, which she presented to the trooper.

"Please," she said sweetly, not dropping her outstretched hand. "My brother and I are just meeting some relatives here. Everything's in order." The trooper cocked his head to the side, and Leia repeated, more forcefully, "Everything's in order."

"E-everything's in order." said the trooper dully. "Move along, then." Han stared, openmouthed, at the man. No way it was that easy. No way, the Galaxy wasn't that nice to _anyone,_ let alone kids.

But Leia was tugging at his arm, and, apparently, it was that easy.

"What the kriffing hell did you do to that guy?" he hissed under his breath as they walked away. "I thought we were dead meat!" Leia sighed.

"I tricked him," she said uncomfortably. "I'm not supposed to talk about it out in the open." Han scowled, but he didn't ask again. A very interesting picture was slowly coming together in his mind, formed out of the little things he knew about Leia and Anakin.

They stopped walking once they were a safe distance from the nearest Stormtroopers, and Leia commed her aunt again. Not engaged in programming an unfamiliar navicomputer this time, Han actually got a look at her.

Well, there was no way in the nine Corellian hells that the woman who appeared was actually Leia's aunt. The togruta smiled.

"Hey Skygirl, you make it okay?" Leia nodded.

"There's a bunch of troopers around, Auntie." she mumbled.

"Sure are." A mischievous smile lit her face. "That may or may not be me and my friends' fault. We're at the café across the street. Come meet us there, and we'll figure out how to get out of here." Leia nodded again, and shut off the connection. Han sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. Hells, but he hoped this aunt was damned good at sneaking around, or there was no way they'd get off the planet alive.

Leia led him to the right café, a greasy spoon joint squashed between the customs booth and a dingy looking bar. She also led him to the right table, occupied by the togruta from the holo, a small dark haired man whose body language positively screamed discomfort, and a tall bald guy with a gun on each hip. Leia didn't hug the togruta lady or anything, but she smiled, the first real smile Han had seen on her since their escape from Nar Shaddaa.

"Hi, Auntie." she murmured. "This is Han. He won the ship, and he helped me get away." Evidently, this counted as a vote of confidence, because the woman leveled a sharp blue look at him, and then nodded.

"Sit down, kids." said the big bald guy. "You hungry?" he asked, as they complied. Han shook his head.

"Ate on the ship." said Leia softly. The woman reached over and patted her hand.

"He's fine, Skygirl," she said, eyes deadly serious. "Search your feelings, you know he is." Leia nodded, finally looking up from the table.

"Right, then." said the bald guy. "I reckon we should get down to the business of leaving, don't you, Sir?" This was addressed to Leia's aunt, who didn't seem offended at being called 'sir.'

"Yeah, probably. If we move fast, the three of us should be able to divert the troopers' attention." Looking to Han, she asked, "Are there officers out there, too, or just troopers?"

"I only saw the bucketheads." said Han. The uncomfortable looking guy nodded at this, visibly perking up.

"They're spread thin, likely, and they aren't terribly imaginative. Without an experienced ISOC officer to lead them, they'll be sloppy."

"Well then," said the Togruta with a slight smile. "I guess it's a good thing they don't have one anymore, huh?" She stood, and slid gracefully out of the booth, followed by the bald guy. Leia and Han followed suit. Had Han been paying attention, he'd have noticed the Togruta woman flash a series of hand signals to a nearby table, populated by two teenagers and two men, their faces obscured by nondescript helmets. However, the vast majority of Han's attention was focused on young Leia Skywalker, so he didn't notice Ahsoka Tano's subtle communication.

By some miracle (or not, and Han was beginning to suspect the gods' wills had nothing to do with it) they reached the _Falcon_ without incident, and maybe two minutes after they boarded, as Han powered up the ship's systems and the woman gave the cockpit a critical once-over, four more beings walked up the ship's access ramp.

"Nice one, Master Tano." said one, a young Nautolan, as he entered the cockpit. "I think that trooper actually forgot his own name." The Togruta, whose name was apparently Tano, grinned, but Leia did not.

"I don't like tricking people like that." she mumbled. "It feels wrong." Tano's grin faded.

"Sometimes, we have to do things that don't sit right with us in order to survive, Young One." she said softly. Leia looked at the floor. "What is it?" asked Tano, noticing this.

"Dad calls me that, when he talks about life lessons." Tano smiled.

"You and me both, kid." she patted Leia's shoulder. "Now then. Where are you headed, Han?" Han crossed his arms.

"I go where the kid goes. Her dad made me promise to keep her safe while he's busy, and that's what I'm gonna do." He raised his chin. If this lady thought she was gonna get rid of him so easy, she had another kriffing thing coming. To his surprise, he felt Leia's small hand grip the bottom of his too-big jacket. The Togruta woman hesitated for a moment, and Hand could practically feel her judging him, deciding if he was trustworthy enough. Finally, she sighed.

"Okay. I suppose it is your ship, isn't it?" Han shook his head.

"No." He looked down at the top of Leia's head. "It belongs to both of us."

* * *

Hours later, as the _Falcon_ rocketed through hyperspace, heading to an old Separatist refueling station in the Outer Rim, Han should have been asleep. Really, he should have. He hadn't had more than a quick nap on the way to Mandalore since the night before he'd met Leia and Anakin.

It was hard to sleep, though, when his mind was going at lightspeed.

Jedi. Leia's aunt was a Jedi. He'd suspected, of course, from the moment Anakin's voice had spoken in his mind, clear as Corellian liquor. And now, of course, he realized that Leia's dad was Anakin kriffing Skywalker, Jedi Knight and War Hero of the Republic. As a kid, Han had found an action figure on the street, dropped by some other child, and he'd pretended it was Skywalker or Kenobi, depending on the day.

Shrike had blasted it into a smear on the deck the first time Han had come back empty handed from a pickpocketing mission.

Now, he'd met Skywalker. In fact, he was sharing a cabin with Skywalker's kid, who, when given the option between sleeping in his cabin and her aunt's, had picked him, much to Han's surprise.

What had he gotten himself into? Imps and lowlives, that he was used to, he'd dealt with them ever since he could remember, but until now, he'd always thought of the Empire as sort of good, a way to escape Shrike, to make something of his life. He'd been thinking about joining the Academy at Carida, actually. Now, he was rethinking it. Leia trusted Ahsoka, even though she'd only met her a few times, via holocomm. And, quite honestly, Han did too. She'd spoken quietly, but her voice shook when she talked about the end of the Republic. Operation Knightfall, she called it.

The three clone troopers backed her up, showing him the surgical scars on their temples where they'd removed the chips that made the rest of the GAR kill their Generals. And finally, as if to cement the story, the uncomfortable looking guy turned out to be an Imperial officer. Or, a former one, Han guessed, since he'd apparently broken Tano out of prison and defected because he wasn't down with the Emperor's methods.

Han had handled the story of their escape from Nar Shaddaa, which Leia seemed grateful for. Ahsoka's brow markings came together in worry when he finished.

"Organa's not gonna like that." she murmured.

"Who's Organa?" asked Leia, speaking for the first time.

And then Ahsoka was off again, talking about Organa, some Senator bigwig, who'd started a resistance movement with a few of his friends from the Senate, and some old Republic diehards.

Across the cabin, there was a rustling of sheets.

"Han?" whispered Leia. "You awake?" Han flicked a luma on, bathing them in dim white light.

"Yeah, kid. What's up?"

"Thanks for staying." she mumbled.

"Yeah," said Han, shifting uncomfortably. He was no good at this mushy shavit. "Well, it's half my ship. Couldn't just let you run off with it, could I?" Leia cracked a tiny smile. Han shrugged, and cleared his throat gruffly. "Go back to sleep, Your Worshipfulness." Leia rolled her eyes, and turned over with a huff. Han flicked the luma back off and rolled onto his back.

He grinned in the dark. She'd be alright, she was a tough little thing. There was no way to know what would happen next, but Han thought they'd all be alright, in the end.

* * *

10 BBY. Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station, the Outer Rim.

To say that Sabé was irritated would be the understatement of the century. In fact, it might have been the biggest understatement in the history of the Old Republic. Were it not for Luke's presence on the ex-Sith's ship, she'd probably have gotten into a full on fistfight with Kenobi at least once.

The sheer irresponsibility of that man. A Sith. He was dating a _Sith._ Dear Goddess, Ventress was a murderer, had he forgotten? What was worse, Luke was fascinated with her. Once he'd gotten over his fear, he'd been incessantly asking questions, as only an eight year old could do. On their two day travel through hyperspace, he'd studied the ship's schematics, received a quick copiloting lesson from Kenobi, and asked no less than eighteen times to hold someone's lightsaber. Only stern glares from Sabé had stopped the Jedi from acquiescing, and she was pretty sure Ventress had given him one of hers when Sabé was out of the room, just to spite her.

Sabé didn't give a shaak's ass if the Temple kids started learning to hold laser swords at four, Luke was far too young.

Not a moment too soon, they'd arrived at Organa's makeshift headquarters, very recently established, and she'd been able to escape. She felt a bit bad about leaving Luke in Kenobi's care, but he definitely cared about the boy, and a bottle of brown hair dye and a fake name would conceal his true identity from anyone who might care. There likely wasn't anyone here who would.

Organa sighed and leaned back in his chair, running a distracted hand through his hair.

"What a mess." he muttered. "I don't blame you, Sabé, of course, but shavit, this is a mess."

"Agreed." she said. "I'm not telling him anything, that should be Padmé's job."

"Well, yes, ordinarily, I'd agree with you." Sabé sighed.

"But?"

"But," said Organa, "I had word just now from Commander Tano's cell. They had some misadventures, but the gist is that Mandalore is lost. They're safely on their way here, with three passengers." He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if to ward off a headache, and Sabé suddenly felt one of her own coming on. "An Imperial defector with information, Leia Skywalker, and a Corellian kid who's been charged with her protection until she got to Tano, it seems." Yep, definitely a headache. Sabé groaned.

"Why, _why_ couldn't Padmé have just married a goddess damned politician and had done with it?" Organa laughed humorlessly. "There's no hope for it. We'll just have to do damage control, and hope their parents get back before they ask too many questions."

"Agreed." Organa grinned sardonically. "Welcome to the resistance effort, Miss Sabé."

* * *

A/N: I am taking Sabé's utter and complete lack of a canon personality and running with it. You can't stop me! Reviews are good.

Here ends part one of this story. Part two will resume after an 8 month in-'verse time skip!


	25. A Meeting Takes Place

A/N: Woo, it's back! I'm terrible, and I'm sorry for the long break between chapters, but I finally have the rest of the story planned out, so there is an upside! Plus, Finals are over, so there's that. Time is going to start skipping around a little from here out, but just read the little setting blurbs and you should be fine. As always, I love every one of your comments, so keep them coming! Happy Reading!

* * *

9 BBY. Florrum, Hondo Ohnaka's Compound.

Florrum was beautiful, in a harsh, yellow sort of way. The land was rocky and uneven, stretching endlessly to the ancient mountains in the west, so far off on the horizon so as to be nearly impossible to make out. There were few major cities, but a myriad of little towns, mostly centered around mines.

The Imperial garrison, established around eight months ago, had carried out its mission well. Petty crime and smuggling was down to the lowest point in living memory. Even the famous pirate, Hondo Ohnaka, seemed unable to best the Imperial blockade. In fact, the people of Florrum's main entertainment for the past several months had been Ohnaka's varied attempts to slip through the Star Destroyers' ranks. None had worked out so far, but the brief flashes of battle visible from the planet's surface were always interesting to watch.

Interesting for the locals, anyway. For Hondo and his pirates, and most especially for their increasingly desperate guest, the garrison was a serious problem.

"Another one?" she groaned. Hondo sighed. It was the sixth plan, the sixth attempt to find a weakness in the seemingly impenetrable blockade holding Florrum, and, consequently, Hondo's business, in a chokehold. It had ended much the same as the other five, his pilot dead in a twisted, flaming hunk of metal on the planet's vast geyser fields, and a small, angry Senator in his office, venting her frustration on him.

Hondo raised his hands, palms out. "I am sorry, Padmé, but I simply don't have the answer you so desire. Frankly, it would take a miracle to get anything off this world without the Empire noticing." Hondo barely reacted, other than to lean backwards, as Padmé slammed her small hand into his desk with a loud bang. Padmé Amidala, as it turned out, was quite the spitfire when she was frustrated. Hondo imagined she and Skywalker must have made a hell of a pair, from what he knew of the Jedi.

"There has to be something, the blockade cannot be invincible!" she snapped, eyes flashing. Hondo, who was rather used to this, sighed again.

"Unfortunately, until the Empire lifts, or at least loosens, the blockade around the planet, there is no way off. Believe me, I would not hold back information from you, it's in my best interest to move on as well. Florrum is no longer profitable for my men and I." That was certainly true, he reflected. More than half of the captains and crews had already gone, hitching rides on outgoing transports. Hondo, however, would not leave unless he could do it with his reputation intact. Anything less would kill his career faster than a Mandalorian in full plate.

As she opened her mouth to retort, a shout rose from the yard below.

"Week's rations are here!" Padmé, who always helped unload and inventory the compound's Imperially allotted rations, turned to leave, much to Hondo's relief. Before she went, though, she had one more thing to say.

"There is a way, Captain, and believe me, I will find it, miracle or no."

* * *

She shouldn't yell at Hondo. After all, it certainly wasn't the pirate's fault that the Empire had taken up seemingly permanent residence in his backyard. In fact, she ought to be thanking him for not handing her over, despite having had several opportunities to do just that. Just last month, in fact, Commander Barnetto had been in the compound, conducting a search for contraband and illegal substances. The Empire hadn't turned anything up since arriving, but Barnetto enjoyed throwing his weight around. Padmé shuddered to think what he did to the poor miners in the towns. At least out here, they were all fairly used to having blasters in their faces. Lost in thought, she nearly walked into the compound's heavy doors. Mentally chastising herself for her inattention, she pulled down her dust goggles before stepping out. A gust of wind blew through the yard as she walked, dust stinging her skin. Eight months ago, she'd have squirmed at being so dirty. Now, though, Padmé simply pulled her scarf up over her nose so as not to get dust in her mouth, and trudged on.

Unloading was hard, sweaty work, made no easier by the constant dust, but it was necessary, and it made Padmé feel useful, so she was happy to do it. She'd have killed for a shower with real water, though. And, of course, she'd do anything, anything at all, to get off this rock and back to her son. She no longer allowed herself to think about the rest of her family. The nightmares were simply too much.

Above her, like the Galaxy's worst cosmic joke, the Star Destroyers loomed. She couldn't see them, but she knew exactly what they looked like, bone white against the darkness of space, and seemingly invincible. In her darker moments, she thought maybe they were, that the Galaxy was doomed to live under Imperial control for the rest of its existence. After all, her best hope of escape was currently to wait until the Empire decided to lift its blockade. How pathetic, for a woman who'd once liberated her world from a similar blockade with only her personal security, two Jedi, and a nine-year old for backup.

As she dropped her last crate with a sigh, there was a voice behind her, snapping her out of her black mood. "Afternoon, me Lady!" called the tall, unusually broad-shouldered Weequay as he passed. She rolled her eyes, but responded good-naturedly, her voice muffled a bit by the scarf.

"How many times, Alatar, it's Padmé, not my Lady!" Ike laughed, hefting the crate he was carrying in his arms.

"Right you are, Lady Padmé!" Still wearing a self-satisfied grin, Ike sauntered inside to drop off his crate of rations. Padmé smiled. Ike was one of Hondo's more loyal captains, and he was a good-natured being, always able to lighten the mood. In times like these, with little to no profits and at the mercy of Imperial forces, he was invaluable to the survival of the compound.

There was little, very little, good about being on Florrum, but Hondo and his pirates weren't so bad, especially now that the alcohol had run out and they were mostly lucid. She'd take the friends she could get, no matter how uncouth. She chuckled to herself as she walked by Onyo and Tanala having one of their famous lover's spats in the hallway, and thanked the goddess that Luke wasn't here to pick up any of their colorful insults, or, dear goddess, ask her what they meant.

* * *

It was Ike, finally, who brought the news.

"Hondo says we've gotta load up, Onyo, he wants the transport ready in an hour." Padmé, in the middle of a conversation with the young pirate, snapped her head up.

"He's making another run?"

"In a manner of speakin'" said Ike with a sly grin. "'E wants to see you b'fore we head out, too." Padmé bid a hasty goodbye to Onyo and practically sprinted to Hondo's office, leaving the two pirates to their newfound work.

"What happened?" she asked, not bothering with a greeting. Hondo looked up from the box he was poring over.

"Ah, Former Senator!" he exclaimed. "The answer to our problems is here at last!"

"What happened?" she repeated, striding to his desk and planting her palms against the durasteel. Hondo grinned.

"We are getting off this rock!" he said. "Just a few minutes ago, I received a transmission from an -ah- friend in the Imperial garrison. Evidently, two of the Destroyers are being redeployed as reinforcements for some big brass who's gotten himself into some trouble on Lianna." Padmé felt a wide grin of her own stretch across her face. Offering up a quick 'thank you' to whatever trouble might necessitate two Star Destroyers as backup, she laughed, exhilarated.

"So this is it, then, Captain?" he nodded.

"Right you are." My people are loading a transport as we speak, and we'll drop you off at the Outer Rim port of your choice, assuming we break the blockade." That was something, certainly more than she'd expected upon arriving here so many months ago, but experience told her she could do better, and so she let her smile turn sly, and got ready to negotiate.

"I have an alternative plan," she began. "You'll need fighter pilots, right, to punch through what's left of the blockade?" Hondo nodded, narrowing his eyes. "Let me fly one. I've been flying for years, and I have experience with fighters. I can help you get through."

"And then you'll keep it, I assume?" she nodded. pleased with his quick intellect.

"In return for my aid in breaking the blockade, and for all my help in managing this place these past 8 months." She leaned back and crossed her arms. "I'd say that's worth one little starfighter, wouldn't you?" she finished sweetly. Hondo laughed.

"You were born for this negotiating thing, Former Senator." he said, still chuckling. "Ah, what can I say, I am in a good mood! We are agreed." He held out a hand, and she took it, feeling an old, nostalgic surge of excitement in her blood.

It had been ages since she'd been on an adventure, and the fourteen-year-old fighter in her was ready.

Around the Same Time, An Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station, The Outer Rim

The intelligence report was equal parts ominous and relieving. The repositioning of two local Destroyers to back up any Imperial ship on any system was something to pay attention to, and perhaps to capitalize on, but intel on this particular ship was red-flagged on the entire Rebel Intelligence network to go straight to Bail Organa's office, though not one of the operatives had any idea why.

On the surface, there was nothing special about the _Inexorable._ It wasn't the fastest, best armed, or largest Star Destroyer in the Navy, but to Bail, it was perhaps the most significant ship in the Galaxy, let alone the Imperial Navy. Until now, he'd had no reports of incidents surrounding the lone Destroyer, nothing to pin her down in any one system. Now, though, she was in orbit above Lianna, calling for significant backup and finally, _finally_ , Bail had enough intel to send in a team. He switched his comm on.

"Commander, I need an Extraction Team up here, now. I've got a priority alpha mission."

* * *

But First, Some Background

* * *

10 BBY. Bail Organa's Headquarters in the Outer Rim.

The base's cafeteria was huge, and so, so busy, Leia could hardly make sense of it. Beings were everywhere, waiting in line for food, and crowding around the tables. Laughter and cheerful shouts filled the air. In another place, Nar Shaddaa, for example, she might have hated it, but here, the noise seemed friendly instead of scary. Of course, it helped that no one was fighting, or haggling, or standing menacingly in the corner. She looked to Han, hoping he'd find a place for them to sit and eat, and wishing Aunt Ahsoka and her team hadn't had to go to their 'debriefing.' Leia didn't know what the word meant, exactly, but she did know she wanted Ahsoka's solid presence beside her. It was almost like having Dad there.

"You can sit down here, if you want?"

Leia jumped, and she whirled around to stare at the boy who'd spoken, clutching her tray and instinctively looking for a threat. He was smiling, and it was so bright it looked like both suns lived behind his face. He was also familiar, like a dream she couldn't quite remember. The answer was right on the edge of her mind, and she was curious, so she grabbed Han's sleeve and tugged him toward the table.

"My name's Ruwee. Ruwee Nertie." the boy said as they approached, and patted the spot next to him on the bench. The Force jumped, and twisted around the words, and Leia knew it was a lie. The boy was something special, and it _definitely_ wasn't Ruwee Nertie.

"No." she said, cocking her head to the side as she sat down across from him. "That's not right. What's your real name?" Not-Ruwee's eyes went wide, and he looked to the lady sitting beside him. Afraid, Leia realized. He was afraid. Beside him, his lady friend's eyebrows came down, eyes suddenly suspicious. And then, Leia understood. "It's okay," she said, holding up her hands like Dad did when he was trying to reassure people. "You're lying because it's not safe to tell the truth, I get it." She and Dad had done the same back home, after all. And then, because the kid still looked terrified, she added, "I'm Leia Skywalker, my Dad's got a lot of friends here, and I'm no Imperial." At this, the lady sighed, brown eyes going from suspicious to something more like annoyed.

"No point in hiding, love, I think it's safe to tell them the truth." she said. The boy didn't look so sure, and he was staring at Leia like a womp rat stared at a nexu, but he eventually opened his mouth again.

"Luke," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "My name's Luke Naberrie." And that, _that_ made the Force hum gently in agreement. She smiled, and stuck her hand across the table. "Pleased to meet you, Luke." He took her hand and shook, with a shy smile of his own. Beside her, Han leaned across the table.

"Han Solo. Good to meet you, kid." Luke turned his shy little smile to the older boy, and nodded.

"So," said Leia with a wide grin. "Wanna explore the base after lunch? It seems wizard!"

At the prospect of exploring, Luke's smile flipped immediately back to the sun bright one from earlier. "I'll show you the hangar. It's the best part!"

"Nine hells," groaned Han. "Now there's another one." Across the table, Sabé Nertie heaved a long-suffering sigh, and wondered what she'd done in a past life to deserve this.

* * *

Approximately Two Weeks Later, Bail Organa's Headquarters

The Rebel base was never silent. It was like Coruscant, in that way. Even in the darkest hour of the night cycle, the systems clicked and whirred, and the low hum of the main power reactor was a comforting constant of life on the old deep space fuel depot. As such, Luke felt as safe and at home as he had since his mother had answered her comlink all those months ago.

No matter how safe he was, though, he couldn't get Mom out of his head. She was out there somewhere (she had to be, she couldn't be gone, she just couldn't) and Luke missed her, he missed her _so much._ She should be here too, safe with with her friends. Mom had so many friends here, it was crazy. There was Aunt Sabé, of course, and Senator Organa, who she'd always told Luke he could go to for help. But then there was Leia's Aunt Ahsoka too, and General Kenobi, and Mon Mothma, who Luke kind of remembered from Coruscant, but she'd left when he'd been really little. And, if Mom was here, she could meet Leia and Han, too. Luke thought she'd like that, but she might think they were too rough. Mom was always gentle, always telling Luke to use his words carefully, that they were better than his fists.

Plus, Han and Leia knew all kinds of bad words, in at least three languages.

Leia didn't talk about it ever, but Luke knew she missed her dad, too. Han had told him what had happened on Nar Shaddaa, how Leia's dad had led the bad guy away so they could escape. Luke's mom had done that for him and Sabé, so Luke kinda got it, and he and Leia'd talked about it soon after. It didn't make their parents come back, but it was nice to have a friend who understood how it felt.

Sometimes, though, Leia was kinda scary. It was like she knew things she couldn't have known, like the first time they'd met, when she knew he'd lied, even though Mom had taught Luke how to lie like a senator sometimes needed to, and he was pretty sithin' good at it, if he did say so himself. It had worked out all right, of course, she understood why he'd wanted to lie, but it was pretty weird, all the same. Ahsoka and Ben were like that too, always seeming like they knew things about you that you hadn't told them. Luke thought it was maybe a Jedi thing. Leia was too young to be a Jedi of the Republic, of course, but she said her dad was one, and that counted.

Leia was probably his best friend, weird Jedi stuff aside, even though he'd barely known her two weeks. She and Han always had something fun to do, and she always seemed to know what to say, either to get them out of trouble or to make Luke laugh. Plus, knew all kinds of stuff about engines, and she knew how to fly a speeder, which made her lightyears better than any of the girls in Luke's school back home. If Mom and Leia's dad were here, life would be pretty much perfect. As it was, though, Luke wanted, more than anything, to go find Mom and bring her here to the base, so they could be a family again.

And that, all of that, was why he couldn't sleep, even though it was the middle of the night cycle. So, instead of flopping back against the pillows for the millionth time, Luke got up and padded down the hallway to where Leia slept, in a little cabin with Master Tano and her female Padawan. She was awake when he opened the door, and for some reason, he wasn't surprised. He thought she was probably thinking the same kinda stuff he was. She sat on her narrow bunk, wrapped in a leather jacket that was way, way too big for her, and held a gently glowing holo in her hands. Luke crept into the room by the light of the holo, and Leia looked up. Seeing him, she waved him over, so he scrambled up onto the bunk. Seated beside her, he could actually see the holo she'd been looking at so intently, and he was shocked to find that he recognized it, even though the woman was way younger than he could remember her ever being.

He turned to stare at Leia, and whispered, quiet as he could, "Where'd you get that?"

She frowned at him, confused. "It was in Dad's pocket, I found it my first night here." she whispered back. "Why, do you know who she is?" Luke nodded.

"Yeah." he said. "That's my mom."


	26. Communication Issues and Evacuations

A/N: There is Ventress/Obi-Wan in this chapter, it's the last scene. Do with this information what you will, and enjoy!

* * *

Eight Months Later

9 BBY. The Outer Rim, An Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station

Bail narrowed his eyes at his senior Intelligence agent. "And you're sure about this?" he asked.  
Agent Yanda Ka, a Rodian intelligence worker, shrugged. "As sure as we can be." Bail waved a hand, prompting the reticent agent to elaborate. One of her antennae twitched in discomfort, but she went on. "Our network is having a hard time infiltrating the Navy and the Intel operations, but sources closest to 16th Fleet's position tell us they're gearing up for a mission, and this station is the only thing in the sector worth checking out."

Bail sighed, and raised a weary hand to his forehead. "Understood. Thank you for the report." Taking this for the dismissal it was, the woman inclined her head and departed. As the door hissed shut behind her, Bail commed his senior officers and negotiators, all of who but Mon Mothma were on location. One by one, the leadership of the resistance filed in. All of them were fugitives, charged with sedition and worse, and Bail counted most of his best friends among them. Sometimes, he wondered at the changes his life had undergone in the past nine years.

Generals Tano and Kenobi arrived together, and last, filling out what passed for a command personnel. As they took seats around the command room's holo table, Bail stood, determined get the bad news out of the way first.

"The Empire has received word that this station's power grid is active. We are very likely to have company within the day." There were varied reactions to this pronouncement. The two Jedi went stiff, their expressions grave, Dodonna swore quietly into his beard, and Mon, appearing via hologram from Dac, blanched visibly, cheeks going nearly opaque under the blue filter. "Luckily for us, they do not know that anyone in particular is here. Intercepted Fleet chatter suggests that they are merely conducting a sweep in response to the power grid activation."

"Without capital ships, our only option is to run before they get here." said Dodonna, leaning forward. "The Empire still isn't aware that we exist as an organized resistance, and we must keep it that way."

Obi-Wan nodded, tapping a forefinger against his bearded chin. "He's right," said the Jedi. "I suppose the good news about having such a small force is that there's very little to move. We can get out within three hours, give or take a few minutes."

"That's still cutting it awfully close, Master Kenobi." said Mon softly. Bail agreed, but there was nothing else they could do. Well, nothing for the rebellion. There was something more Bail could do for Padmé and her husband, and he intended to see it done.

"Handle your departments, then." he said. "Full evacuation. Our primary rendezvous point will be Sulon, as agreed upon. If it's occupied, follow procedure and head for the secondary point." As the commanders nodded and rose from their seats, Bail turned to Mon. "How are your negotiations going?" She shook her head, looking grim.

"Not well." She sighed. "It took me months to even get a meeting with representatives of the Mon Cala and Quarren. The Empire has Dac in a stranglehold. The people are trying to fight back, but without leadership from within, they won't get far. Their top naval commanders were all enslaved under the Pacification Act." Mon snorted in disgust at the term. "No capital ships anytime soon, I'm sorry, Viceroy." Bail nodded in understanding.

"Stay safe, my friend." he said, and, with a nod, she disconnected the comm, her image blinking out in a flash of blue.

He looked then at Obi-Wan, one of two members of the command council who didn't have personnel to manage. "I want you to coordinate with your contacts and see about finding the Mon Cala Naval officers. Use whatever resources you feel are necessary. A liberated Dac would aid our efforts infinitely." The Jedi nodded, with a slight, secretive smile, and Bail inferred that a certain Rattataki assassin would likely be accompanying Obi-Wan on his mission. Finally, as the last few beings trailed out of the room, he caught Ahsoka's attention, and she hung back, one brow marking raised in question.

"I want you to take Leia now, before the evacuation starts." he said. "In case we don't get out in time, I don't want her getting snapped up by the Empire. Go the long way to Sulon, and don't tell her why you're taking her off base, none of us needs a panicked Force-Sensitive child around. There's a scheduled supply run you can make, very low risk. Take Sabé and her boy as well, I doubt Leia would go without him." Ahsoka nodded.

"Solo too." she murmured, mostly to herself. "I'll go find them."

* * *

9 BBY. The Outer Rim, An Abandoned Separatist Refueling Station

The intrepid Rebel operatives were so close. So close to discovering the location of the Empire's top agent and stopping him. All they had to do was stay hidden. It wasn't comfortable, curled up like a pair of monkey lizards, but that was the life of a Rebel spy. Below them, the Imperial Hangar hummed with life, full of troopers and officers going about their evil business. Above the mundane chatter was the sound of their quarry's increasingly desperate calls as he searched in vain for the infiltrators who, unless caught, would no doubt thwart his plans.

"Where have you gotten to this time?"

Beside her, curled up in the dark access hatch, her partner grinned at the panicked shout. "Got 'em now" he mouthed, and jerked his thumb at the grate. The Rebel Commander nodded, and wriggled silently forward, recalling all of her combat training. Her partner lifted the grate with light, gentle fingers, and the Commander launched herself forward with a fearsome warcry, catching her target in the back.

* * *

"Son of a chuff sucking, Sith-spawned Hutt!" yelped Han, as one of the two children he'd been looking for collided with his spine, sending them both tumbling to the hangar floor. The spectacle elicited a few chuckles from the mechanics on duty, and full-throated laugh from Colonel Rieekan, who was discussing something or other with Colonel Ceryx across the hangar.

"Gotcha, Imp!" crowed Luke, (or Ruwee, as they called him out loud) clambering down from the low-set access hatch in which the two brats had apparently been hiding. Hells, it was tiny, how had they managed to squeeze inside?

"I've been looking for you two for ages! How long were you in there?" he asked, disentangling himself from Leia's skinny legs. She scrambled to her feet with more grace than should have been possible for a nine-year-old and set her small fists on her hips.

"Almost an hour, right, Ruwee?" The brown haired boy nodded, looking smug.

"We were staking out the mission!" he said proudly.

Han rolled his eyes. "Good job, you little menace." Honestly, he'd thought the little Princess was bad enough by herself. Since she'd met the boy, they'd been twice the trouble. How in the 'verse he'd managed to get attached to the Twin Terrors, Han would never know.

Leia laughed.

"We're not menaces, we're Rebels!" she said, grinning widely and displaying the recently acquired gap in her teeth.

"Rebels," came a voice from behind Han, "would have been quieter, Little One." Luke, at least, had the grace to look a little ashamed, glancing down at his feet as Ahsoka approached. Leia just shrugged. Han grinned. Reinforcements, at last. "And you, young Solo, should be more aware of your surroundings." Han scowled at her. So much for backup, then.

"Hey, it's not my fault I don't have magic Jedi powers or whatever." he grumbled.

Ahsoka laughed, though it sounded a little forced. "Well, at least you improved the Colonel's day." she said, with a jerk of her chin toward Colonel Riekaan, who had only just stopped laughing as General Dodonna approached him and the other colonel. Leia's grin got, were that possible, even wider, and Ahsoka leaned down conspiratorially. "Now, if you 'Rebels' are willing to hold still for two minutes and listen, I've got a proposition for all three of you." Han raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "I've been given a mission, and I want you three to come with my men and I." Both children's eyes widened, excitement glowing in them. Han was excited, too, though he was way too mature to show it. Ahsoka smiled. "I thought you might like the idea. It's your first mission as rebels! Now, go pack a bag with whatever you think you'll need, okay? Make sure you've got at least one change of clothes, I don't know how long this will take. I'm gonna go prep the Falcon. We'll leave as soon as you're ready."

* * *

Leia was practically bouncing off the walls all the way back to their quarters, but Luke was a little worried, for reasons he couldn't quite put his finger on. Maybe it was Ahsoka, and the way she'd been smiling, the same way Mom did when she'd been crying the night before and didn't think Luke knew. Or maybe it was the fact that they'd been begging for months to go with Leia's aunt every time she left on a mission and she'd always, _always_ said no. Mom had taught Luke a long time ago how to look under what beings said, especially when they were telling you things you wanted to hear, and somehow, Luke didn't think this was as simple as their first Rebel mission. As they reached their door, Leia's voice, raised in a question, yanked him out of his thoughts.

"…ask her, right?" Luke blinked at his friend, confused.

"Huh?" Leia rolled her eyes.

"Pay attention, laser brain!" she admonished. "I said, we're finally gonna get a chance to ask Auntie 'Soka about the Holo! Aren't you excited at all?"

Huh. Luke hadn't thought about that, actually. The Holo, the one of Luke's mom that Leia had found, was a mystery they were determined to solve. Unfortunately, nobody seemed to know anything about it. They'd asked Sabé, since she was Mom's best friend, but she'd just shrugged and said maybe Leia's Dad had been curious about the Senators. Ben, who was apparently good friends with Mom too, had said the same thing. Luke knew that wasn't right, though. That was a dumb reason to have a holo in your pocket if he'd ever heard one. Han was only a little more helpful. He'd just said, "I don't know, maybe they were friends or somethin'. Those Jedi types were always working with the Senate during the war." Maybe that was the truth, but Luke and Leia weren't going to stop until they knew.

Leia was sure Ahsoka would know something, since she was practically her dad's sister, but the Togruta Jedi was almost never on base. She was always off doing stuff for Viceroy Organa, and they hadn't gotten a chance to ask her about the Holo.

"Yeah," he said, real excitement blooming in his chest for the first time. "You sure she knows about it?" Leia nodded, eyes resolute and sure.

"She's got to."

* * *

9 BBY. Hyperspace, Somewhere Between Taris and Lianna, The Hold of a Small Cargo Freighter.

All Anakin could think was that this was definitely against the Legal Transport and Trade Code. For Kriff's sake, there wasn't enough room down here to stretch his legs out, and none of the crates had even been secured to the floor, which meant that every time the ship hit a pocket of energy in the hyperspace tunnel, they threatened to collide with his head. He already had two throbbing bruises, and his day didn't seem to be getting any better from here.

Well, at least he was away from Taris. Stupid idea anyway, thinking the rumor might have been true about Ohnaka's gang being holed up there. Unfortunately, Anakin couldn't afford to ignore any rumors, even the vague and unreliable ones. In nearly eight months of searching, he'd turned up exactly nothing about Hondo Ohnaka. Instead, he'd been arrested on Mandalore, though only by the regular guard; thank whichever of Padmé's Goddesses happened to be listening. After that, it was one close brush with Imperial troops after another, though he hadn't stayed in one place long enough for the Sith Lord to catch up with him. He could feel the Sith's rising frustration like an unpleasant shadow dogging his steps though, and it was likely only a matter of time. Anakin knew himself well enough to know that if he found a lead on Padmé, he'd follow it wherever it led, Sith Lord be damned. Now that Leia and Luke were safe (they were, he could feel Leia's presence in their bond, all _warmdesertsunshine_ and doubly strong for being with her twin) there was nothing, nothing more important than finding his wife and making sure she was, too.

With a sigh, Anakin dropped his head against a crate and tried, uselessly, to massage the cramps out of his knees. He'd been sitting here for going on eight hours now, and he'd fallen asleep twice, only to be woken both times by unsecured cargo connecting with his ribcage. The fact that he'd managed to fall asleep at all despite the incredibly uncomfortable way his legs were bent was a testament to how exhausted he was. In the past four days, he'd slept maybe nine hours, all of it in seedy motels in Taris' underbelly. The past eight months had probably been the hardest living he'd ever experienced, which, for someone who'd lived on Tatooine for half his life and fought a war for two and a half straight years, was truly saying something.

Words could not describe how much Anakin Skywalker hated Darth Sidious in that moment, sitting in the freezing hold of a smuggling freighter headed Gods-knew-where with his ass almost completely numb. And that wasn't even touching the real reasons he hated him either, not the mild panic he'd been in ever since the Sith had shown up on Tatooine, not the empty, lonely way the Force resonated these days, and not the pain the Empire caused billions of beings every day. The Republic might have been a bureaucratic nightmare, but at least it had _tried_.

Gods, he needed to stop dwelling on shit like this. Without Leia's bright presence beside him, the Dark was a sweet, beckoning lure, drawing on his anger and fears, just as it always had.

Anakin sighed again and resolutely focused on something, anything, other than his deeply un-Jedi-like feelings. Like plans. Plans were good. Once the ship got wherever it was going, he'd get back to hunting leads. It was maddening, frustrating work, the kind Anakin had never been good at, but he had to find Hondo's hideout. Padmé would be there. She would. She had to be.

* * *

9 BBY. Nal Hutta, Capital City of Bilbousa

No matter how many times he visited Nal Hutta, and in the course of his life, Obi-Wan had been several times, he could never shake the urge to shudder at the general dinginess of the planet. Anakin's least favorite terrain was desert, but Obi-Wan's was, without a doubt, swampland. The air was close and far too thick, and even the highest, firmest ground felt rotten under his feet, like the killing fields on Jabiim and Umbara.

However, Asajj wanted to meet here, and so here Obi-Wan was. He'd not seen her in months, not since the day after they'd brought Luke and Sabé to the resistance. He understood completely why she'd left, of course. Organizations weren't really her cup of tea, especially since the last authority figure she'd put her trust in had tried to kill her. Honestly, Obi-Wan considered himself lucky she'd agreed to meet with him at all, let alone join up with a burgeoning military.

He found her at a booth in the Lady Love, one of Bilbousa's many, many saloons. As he approached her table, something warm and light sparked in his chest, filling out some part of him he hadn't known was lacking, and, unbidden, the corners of his mouth turned up. He schooled his expression back to neutral, which was easy, seeing as the reaction her presence had caused was deeply troubling. He hadn't felt such a thing since the last time he'd seen-he stamped down on that train of thought. Perhaps it was best to keep this meeting strictly professional, until he could get a hold of himself.

"Ventress." he murmured, sliding into the booth across from her. It put his back to the door, but he couldn't sense any danger here. Asajj smiled, a real one, not the sinister leer she put on before a fight.

"I even got you a cup of tea. I'd have picked caf for old time's sake, but the faces you make at it are so very off-putting." she said, with a nod to the cup across from her on the table, which did appear to be full of tea, Ti'il by the scent. He took a sip, nodding his thanks. Asajj raised her brow expectantly, running a fingertip around the edge of her own glass, which contained a small measure of amber liquor. "So, tell me about this important job you need my help with."

"Ah." he said, setting his cup back down. "I'm looking for some Imperial prisoners. They'd be a mix of Mon Cala and Quarren, and they'd be kept in high security, but likely not maximum. They're Naval officers from Dac, arrested under the Pacification Act." Asajj leaned back, eyes narrowing to slits.

"Obi-Wan, you know I don't want to get involved in Imperial business any more than I have to. For the time being, Sidious has forgotten about me, and I'd like to keep it that way." She scowled. "I'm not going to be captured and reconditioned, not for anything." Anyone else in the Galaxy would have been fooled by her anger, but Obi-Wan knew her well enough to look further. There was fear in her narrowed eyes, a deep, gripping fear of ending up where she'd been ten years ago, a pawn in Sidious and Dooku's games. He sighed.

"Obviously it's your choice, Ventress." he said, aiming for a reassuring tone. "Mostly I need information. Surely someone in your circle keeps up with intel like this?"

She exhaled through her nose in sudden dark humor, a smirk curling her lips. "Well, as it happens, I do know someone who might know about Pacification prisoners. I doubt you'll like it, though, he's a nasty piece of work, even among hunters."

Obi-Wan sighed again, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, I have a bad feeling about this." She let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Yeah, I'll bet you do." she said, and tossed back the remainder of her drink. "His name's Bane."

* * *

The hotel was sleazy, but by the time Asajj had made her call and arranged the meet with Cad Bane, it was well into Nal Hutta's night cycle, and so she and Obi-Wan decided to leave in the morning together. She wasn't about to set foot into an Imperial prison, but she wasn't going to let him go alone to talk with the most cold blooded bounty hunter in the Galaxy, either.

She couldn't keep from shifting uneasily back and forth as they waited in the dim lobby. Something was wrong between the two of them, she could sense it. The easy conversation they'd had on Corellia seemed to have evaporated into the air, and it was incredibly irritating. Every awkward exchange felt so wrong, it made her skin crawl. When she'd gotten his comm about wanting her help, she'd been- not excited, because she didn't get excited about anything anymore, but definitely not unhappy about the prospect of seeing Obi-Wan again. Force, maybe it was just the sex, but she'd kind of missed the damn Jedi. This stilted, stiff Obi-Wan, however, she didn't know what to do with. When he booked a double room, though, she'd had enough.

"Alright, Kenobi," she growled, dropping her work bag on the room's rather grungy floor. "What is your problem? You haven't so much as looked me in the eye all day, and since when have we needed two beds?"

The fingers of his right hand flexed, a sure sign that he was uncomfortable. "There's nothing _wrong_ , I just don't think sharing a bed would be a good idea." As he spoke, her stomach seemed to fill with duracrete. How could she not have realized? Obi-Wan wasn't about to settle down and buy a house with anyone, of course, but it had been eight months since the last time she'd seen him. He'd taken up with someone else and, damn him, he was too much of a gentleman to sleep with two beings at the same time. It made sense. What didn't make sense was the way her heart seemed to weigh kilos now that she'd figured it out, nor the sudden strong desire to rip his eyes out of their sockets.

"Oh?" she said, not sure what was driving her to keep talking, or what was making her voice come out so snide. "And why not? Afraid your Rebel isk'aa will find out you slept with a Darksider?" Obi-Wan jerked back, eyebrows jumping nearly to his hairline.

"What? Ventress, I'm not sleeping with-" He shook himself and took a seep, calming breath. "I'm not seeing anyone, I just think it would be best, in the interest of my mission, to, ah, to keep things strictly professional between us." Asajj froze as relief flooded through her at his words, followed by a horrifying realization.

No. _No_ , she was Asajj Ventress, she was an ex-Sith, a feared bounty hunter, and she did not get jealous at the thought of other beings sharing Obi-Wan Kenobi's bed. She did _not_ want to cry with relief because he hadn't taken up with someone else in her absence.

Except, of course, she did, on both counts. The thought was damning, but also just the slightest bit comforting, because now she knew. And Asajj Ventress, for all that she apparently did develop feelings for ridiculous, irritating, ginger-haired Jedi, was, above all, a woman who prided herself on knowing her own mind. The knowledge gave her a purpose, and no way in hell was he weaseling his way out of this conversation now.

"It's never worried you before, why now? What aren't you telling me?" she pressed, determined. He raked his hand through his ginger hair and looked directly at her for the first time that day, gray eyes pleading.

"Please don't ask me that. I-I don't have an answer for you." His fingers clenched and unclenched over and over again, the only sign of stress she'd ever seen him show. She shook her head again.

"I do," she said, and it was true. She couldn't read his mind, but she knew her own, and she suspected his distress was coming from the same source as hers. One of them had to do something about it, and it wasn't going to be Obi-Wan. "I think you realized today that you missed me these past few months, just like I did. I think it scared you. And, I think you're being utterly ridiculous, and that you should get over here and kiss me." The last words left her in a rush, almost without her consent, but she was glad she'd said them, for they were the truth. Whatever the future held, she wanted him.

His shoulders slumped in defeat at her words, and he sank slowly onto one of the beds. "I-I can't." he whispered. "I can't feel like this about you, about anyone." Asajj rolled her eyes and stepped forward, dropping down to the bed across from him.

"You can." she murmured, gentle as she could. "Emotions are not inherently evil, Jedi. You risk the Dark far more by fearing it than by accepting the way you feel." It was a lesson she'd learned the hard way. He looked up from the floor, his face pale and his gray eyes haunted.

"There is no emotion, there is peace." His voice was a whisper, barely even there. "I am a Jedi Knight, Asajj. I am the last of them, and I cannot turn my back on the Code." She wanted to smack him, the damned annoying Jedi, but she held herself back, reaching for his hand instead.

"Obi-Wan, the Jedi Order is not something that ought to be preserved." Her words were harsh, but her tone was kind, and it was a truth he needed to hear. "Sidious was right in front of you for years, but your Council was too proud to think that it could have been wrong about the Sith. Order 66 struck the final blow, but the Order was dying long before the Republic fell." He opened his mouth to retort, but she wasn't done. "The Jedi Order's chapter has ended, Obi-Wan. Let it go, and let something better come from its end."

 _Something that lets you be happy, for once in your life._

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! It's been awhile, but this chapter is about twice as long as the last one, so there's that anyway. As alway, your reviews fuel both my soul and my muse.


	27. In Which Mistakes are Made

A/N: I'm so sorry for the abominably long wait, but hey, it's a fun one!

Also, I've decided to instate a 'Previously On' section, since it takes me so long to write chapters and there are a lot of storylines. SO, previously...The Sith Lord Darth Malefus is charged with capturing Anakin Skywalker alive and bringing him to the Emperor, Luke and Leia find a holo of Luke's mom in Leia's dad's pocket, Ahsoka's team, plus Arana, Luke, Leia, and Han are sent on a supply mission to keep Leia (and Luke) safe while the proto-rebellion evacuates their base and moves to Sulon, and Padmé is granted a lucky opportunity to escape Florrum when half the Imperial blockade of the planet is called away on urgent business.

* * *

9 BBY. The Star Destroyer _Inexorable_

Clearly, Lord Malefus had been summoned from something rather strenuous. He stalked along the bridge catwalk towards Captain Atrela much as normal, but his appearance was anything but. Far from the Dark Lord's usual poise, today's Malefus was flushed, his dark curls askew. As he strode overhead, First Lieutenant Piett even heard a hitch in the man's breathing, the barest hint that he was out of breath. All these observations came together in the young Lieutenant's mind, and he fixed his eyes firmly on his datascreen, praying to all the Axxilan gods that no reports would come up from Comms that required Malefus' attention. To pull _Inexorable's_ looming guest from his quarters in such a state, well, suffice to say it would be best for Piett's immediate health to stay out of his superior's way.

Apparently the Axxilan Pantheon had a vibro shiv to grind with poor Firmus Piett, though, because less than two minutes after Lord Malefus' presence darkened the bridge, a Priority One transmission flashed across his screen, blinking laser-green. Piett manfully converted his squeak of horror into a cough and stood, clenching his fists to stop his hands from shaking. Commending his soul to whomever might be listening, he snapped to attention and spoke:

"Transmission from Intelligence for you, M'lord. Shall I forward it along?" Lord Malefus' head whipped around, his golden eyes skewering Firmus, who was struck with an absurd and highly reckless urge to laugh. The only thought that would go through his head was that Malefus' eyes clashed horribly with his flushed cheeks.

"Lieutenant Piett, yes?" Without waiting for an affirmative, Malefus continued. "No need to waste the time, give me a verbal report." Piett blinked twice in rapid succession, his desire to laugh quite diminished and his heart suddenly determined to jump out of his chest.

"Ahem," he said articulately, and then his training kicked in. "Comms has received a transmission from planetside intelligence on Taris. An NIO reported a man matching the description of your target boarding a freighter bound for the Lianna system." Before Malefus could ask, Piett went on. "There is one Victory Class stationed in the sector, M'lord."

Malefus nodded sharply, and turned to Atrela. "Captain, set the course. I want a strike team assembled before we arrive, your best marksmen." Turning back to the terrified Bridge Comms Officer, he snapped, "Lieutenant, contact the nearest battle group, get me a significant presence in the Lianna system." With a quick nod, Piett sank back into his seat. He permitted himself one shuddering breath of relief as Malefus' attention turned away from Bridge Crew. Two for two, and his luck was holding for the moment. Nerves somewhat calmed, he set about the task of looking up the nearest battle group. To his further relief, it wasn't any farther away from Lianna than _Inexorable_ was, though he couldn't imagine what a backwater like Florrum would need an entire battle group for. Hopefully nothing terribly important, as they were all about to be called on a two-day hyperspace jump to back up Lord Malefus' Jedi-hunting operation. _Yes_ , thought Piett at the voice in his mind that sounded rather like his grandmother, _I really need to get reassigned._

* * *

9 BBY. The _Millenium Falcon._

Rex simply couldn't understand Ahsoka and the General's fascination with space. No matter how many times he'd traversed the Galaxy, the twisting, chaotic blue field of hyperspace still managed to freak him out. It made no damn sense, the knowledge that he was moving faster than light, that the slightest miscalculation could rip a Star Destroyer apart. In general, the whole notion sent shivers down his rock-jumper's spine, and given the choice, Rex would choose solid ground beneath his feet every time.

Hence his presence in the _Falcon's_ common room, rather than her cockpit. He knew as well as anyone that a ship in hyperspace needed watchful eyes on her systems at all times, and Ahsoka had offered to stay up, knowing how much he hated hyperspace, but she needed rest, and Rex could handle a few hours of unease for her sake. That didn't mean he was willing to _watch_ it though. He could hear the engines and the navi's gentle muttering well enough out here, and there were no viewports to remind him that he was hurtling through the vacuum of space at ludicrous speeds.

Rex sighed and stretched, rolling his shoulders, and, to his momentary surprise, felt no pops or aches. Though he'd stopped aging at double-speed nearly 10 years ago now, it was still hard to get used to having a younger body than expected. By clone standards, after all, Rex should have been well into his forties. By virtue of the Kaminoan's endless practicality though, he was somewhere in his early thirties.

 _After all,_ he thought bitterly, _what use is a soldier with only five years of prime fighting capability?_

Doing the actual calculations made his head hurt, so he'd long since given up on trying to figure out his age to the year. He shook his head at himself. It wasn't often that he, or any of his brothers, thought too hard about their own genes, as it tended to lead down pretty dark roads. The late hour and solitude brought out a heavy mood in him, it would seem.

There was quiet movement in his cabin down the hall, most likely the former Imp. Rex kept an ear out, though he didn't think anything would come of it. Had the Commander been out here, Arana might have made an appearance, but he doubted very much that the Imp wanted to spend any time with Rex himself.

Maybe it was the paranoia of an old soldier, but Rex didn't like Arana. Ahsoka trusted him, and that was good enough, it really was, but still, he, Jesse, and Kix had a real hard time understanding how any being who had any sort of choice in the matter could serve the Empire. After what they'd gone through on Felucia, what their brothers had gone through in the years afterward- no, Rex would never understand kids like Arana, no matter what Ahsoka thought about it.

And, well, maybe his dislike of Arana had something to do with the young man's interest in his Commander, too. Just maybe.

Between the late hour, the sounds from the cabin, and Rex's thoughts, he missed the quiet footsteps until little Leia stopped in the doorway as she caught sight of him, looking rather like a gualama caught in headlights. Rex smiled, and said softly;

"Evening, kid." She stared at him for just a moment, weighing her options, but then slipped into the common room.

"I didn't think anyone would be out here." she said, cocking her head to the side with a slightly suspicious look in her brown eyes. Rex shrugged.

"Someone's gotta make sure the navicomputer stays on the right course, or we may not make it to Raxus in one piece." He chuckled at her increasingly confused expression. "Hyperspace is a dangerous place, kid."

"I-I didn't know." she looked to the deck, cheeks turning pink. "This is only my third time, and I wasn't really watching, the other two." Rex smiled again, without laughing this time.

"It's a learning experience, then. Nothin' wrong with that." Slowly, Leia raised her head again, this time to give him a patented Jedi Look. Like she was taking him apart with her eyes, looking through every piece to see what he was made of. Apparently, she liked what she found, because she eventually hopped up on the sofa next to him.

"You were friends with my dad, right? Auntie 'Soka said you were, you and Jesse and Kix too." Rex nodded, wondering what she was getting at.

"Yeah, General Skywalker and I fought together all through the Clone Wars. I met him on Christophsis, just after he was made a Knight, I think." This didn't seem to mean much to Leia, and Rex realized that the General must not have told her much, if anything, about the War. He decided to simplify things. "Your dad saved my life more times than I can count; he's the best Jedi I ever knew." That made her smile, and, with a nod of determination, she reached into the pocket of her sleep pants and came out with a holotransmitter.

"Do you know who this is?" she asked, pressing the activation switch and watching the gowned young woman flicker into holographic being.

"Sure, she's a Senator named Padmé Amidala." he said, seeing no harm in answering. Leia had a right to know the whole truth, really, but there were reasons she didn't know it, and Rex was nothing if not loyal to Anakin Skywalker. Leia nodded.

"Yeah, I know her name already." She frowned. "Do you know if Dad knew her?" Rex sighed, internally this time. He couldn't just come out and tell her, she ought to hear it from her father. But he couldn't just lie to her either. That wasn't right, and besides, she'd likely see right through him, Force-sensitive as she was.

"Padmé was a real popular lady, back during the war." he said. "The General always liked her, they were good friends. He used to ask me to watch out for her when she was in the field." There, that seemed safe enough.

"So lots of people liked her?" asked Leia, still frowning in puzzlement. Rex nodded, smiling at the memory of his General's wife.

"Yeah, she had this way about her, she was probably the kindest woman I ever met. Your dad used to joke that she was an angel from Iego, taking a visit in the normal Galaxy for a while."

"An angel?" asked the little girl.

"Yeah." said Rex, still lost in the story. "Immortal creatures from the Thousand Moons. I've never seen one, but Senator Amidala's sure something else. Or, at least she was back then, I haven't seen her in years."

"I know about angels," said Leia softly. "the spacers talked about them back home." She looked away, staring off into space. "The most beautiful creatures in the Galaxy." Rex laughed.

"If any spacer's ever actually seen an angel, I'll eat my boot. Senator Amidala always thought it was funny though, she'd smile ear to ear whenever the General made that joke." Rex grinned outright at the memory of the two of them on _Jewel of Alderaan,_ Padmé blushing and swatting mock-angrily at her husband's shoulder while he laughed.

Leia looked back at the holo, eyes on Padmé's gently glowing face. After a few minutes of watching, she looked back at Rex. "Thank you for telling me." she said firmly. "I think I can maybe fall asleep now." And with that, she hopped down from the sofa and walked out of the common room, headed for her cabin on near-silent feet.

* * *

"Luke. Luke, wake up, I need to talk to you!"

Huh. That didn't sound like it belonged in the meadow at Aunt Sola's house on Naboo. Besides, Luke wasn't asleep, he was laughing at a joke his cousin Ryoo had made.

"Wake up, bantha-brains!" Something grabbed his shoulder, shaking hard, and Varykino blurred into Leia's annoyed face hovering over him in the dark cabin. Luke blinked at her.

"Wuttimesit?" Leia shrugged, still tugging at his shoulder.

"I dunno, real late. Get up, I need to talk to you, and I don't wanna wake up Han." she whispered. Luke was up before he even really thought about it. He was sleepy, sure, but Leia was his best friend.

He followed Leia through the ship's corridors, heading, not for the common or the the cockpit, but towards the back of the ship, where the engines were. She wove her way through the close maintenance tunnels with no problem, and Luke found himself mirroring her actions to avoid the exposed piping as they wriggled through the access hatches. Finally, Leia squeezed through a hatch that was definitely too small for anyone but the two of them, and Luke followed to find himself in a crawl space that was just big enough to sit in, if he set his back against one wall and his toes on the pipe opposite. Leia arranged herself so that she was facing him and pulled out the Holo, turning it on to light the crawl space. Then, only then, did she look at Luke.

"I think you're my brother."

"What?" Luke stared at her, not understanding.

"Just-" she took a deep breath. "Just listen, okay?"

Confused and a little worried, Luke nodded. "Okay."

"Earlier, I couldn't sleep, so I went out into the common room to sit, and I found Captain Rex up there. I remembered that he and Dad were friends too, so I asked him about the Holo. He said the same thing Auntie did, that your mom and my dad were friends. He also said that Dad always asked him to look after your mom on their missions and stuff in the war."

"Leia, that doesn't mean-" began Luke, but Leia cut him off, waving her arm impatiently.

"No, I'm not done yet. Rex said that Senator Amidala was the nicest person he knew. She took a deep, nervous breath. "Luke, he told me that Dad used to call her an angel."

"So?"

"So, whenever I ask Dad about my mother, he always says the same thing. He says she was kind and beautiful, and then he gets this dopey look on his face and he says that she was an angel." Luke opened his mouth, skeptical, but Leia still wasn't finished. "It can't be a coincidence, can it? That's what he used to call my mom!"

"I'm not sure." said Luke slowly.

"Well, what does your mom tell you when you ask about your dad, huh?

Luke thought about it. "She says he was a pilot, that he flew a starfighter in the Clone Wars." She had no holos, not even one picture of dad, she'd said she'd lost them a long time ago. "She told me they met on a faraway planet when they were just kids, and that my dad thought she was-was…" _an angel._ That was what Mom had said when he'd asked how she met Dad.

"Was what?" asked Leia. Luke reached out to the holo of his mother, younger than Luke had ever seen her, speaking in the Senate, something she'd never, ever, done, not since Luke had been born. What had changed, from back then?

"An angel. The first thing he ever said to her was 'Are you an angel?'" Leia reached for his hand.

"Dad's a pilot, an ace one." she said slowly. "Sometimes he'd fly people's ships after he fixed 'em, he's really, really good." She squeezed his hand. "It has to be true. Your mom and my dad, they're together. We're twins, Luke. My birthday's three days after Empire Day, and yours is too, isn't it?"

It was. Mom was always sort of sad on Luke's birthday, he'd never understood why, but he'd known it had something to do with Empire Day.

Luke nodded. He couldn't talk, couldn't even think clearly for the light, full feeling in his chest. A family, a sister and a father. And then, one horrifying realization vaporized all of it.

"Leia, wait." he stared at her, desperately hoping she'd tell him all the reasons he couldn't be right. "If we're brother and sister, if my mom and your dad are together, then why aren't we a family? Why did we live on Coruscant and you on Tatooine?" When Leia didn't answer, Luke kept talking; he couldn't stop. "Leia, our parents aren't together. Not anymore. What if they don't love each other any more? What-what if they didn't want both of us and that's why they never told us?"

* * *

9 BBY. Lianna, City of Lola Curich.

Though, like almost every other planet in the known Galaxy, Lianna was under the control of the Empire, it enjoyed privileges otherwise unknown outside of the Inner Core. At the demand of Sienar Fleet Technologies, who held contract with the Imperial Navy, there was no permanent Imperial military presence in system, though of course, the Empire was welcome anytime. As such, the inhabitants of Lianna, specifically of Lianna City and Lola Curich, found it quite odd and not a little disconcerting when, at just after 0900 GST, an Imperial battle group, plus an extra Star Destroyer, jumped out of hyperspace and deployed troop carriers. So too, did a certain freighter Captain when she jumped into the system nearly six hours later. Fortunately for her (but not for the man currently hiding in her cargo hold), experience kept her from panicking at the sight of the looming Destroyers. The Captain instead very calmly transmitted her false transponder codes, which, as per usual -they were very good codes,- fooled the Imperial scanners, and got her past the warships with no problem. She had no way of knowing, of course, that an ensign aboard the point Star Destroyer flagged her ship as a match for the cargo transport suspected to be carrying one Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.

Blissfully unaware of the Imperial eyes on her, the freighter captain made her way to the planet's surface, docked in Lola Curich's spaceport, bribed the Customs Officer on duty, and oversaw the unloading of her cargo, tariff free and bound for Lianna's flourishing black market. If anyone on her crew noticed the stranger who slipped out of the cargo hold before unloading began, they didn't say anything. Unfortunately for the aforementioned stranger, though, the freighter crew's were not the only prying eyes to avoid.

Less than 30 seconds after ducking out of the smuggling freighter, Anakin figured out where he was. Lianna, after all, was one of the few planets he'd paid attention to in the Temple's Xenogeography and Galactic Economics class. And, of course, everyone at the Temple knew of the battle of Lianna, one of the first of the Clone Wars.

Though not entirely recovered from the war, Lianna was still prettier than Anakin was used to. There were no crude pourstone huts or smoky spice dens on these streets, oh no, Lola Curich was constructed from white Elerite, one of Lianna's many, many natural resources. From the banks of the clear-as-glass river between Lola Curich and her sister city to the wide open flatlands that made up much of Lianna's surface, there was something undeniably graceful about the planet. Then again, centuries of Sienar profits would do that to a system. Anakin hadn't been around this much legitimately made money since Coruscant, and maybe not even then.

Building starships, as it turned out, was far more profitable than simply fixing them, and Anakin allowed himself a moment of wishful thinking as he strolled between tall white buildings. Unfortunately, he doubted that the Galactic Empire would be willing to buy warship engines from a former Jedi.

Despite his bruised ribs and generally sore joints, Anakin was in a good mood, the best in months, really. There was no significant reason to be in a good mood, as Lianna, in all likelihood, did not hold the key to finding his wife, but hey, at least he could stretch his legs and no one was going to try and sell him deathsticks.

It was the little things, really.

He had some vague thoughts of eating real food and sleeping in a real bed as he navigated the wide sidewalks, enjoying the sounds of friendly commerce, and it was then that he caught one very familiar name.

"-Amidala, yes, I heard-" and then the voice was gone, but Anakin already knew where it had come from.

The speaker was an average looking human male, dressed smartly, looking utterly normal on the Liann streets. More normal than Anakin himself, who had been living rough recently and looked it. Almost unconsciously, Anakin turned to follow him. Something desperate and not a little reckless drove him, his exhaustion and aches forgotten in his determination. The Force rushed in heavy currents around him, and he _knew_. Today was the day.

He followed the man at a discreet distance, waiting for an opportunity to speak with him alone. The man walked with an easy, measured stride through Lola Curich, headed southeast. Had Anakin taken a minute to think, he'd have found something familiar about the man's purposeful stride and impeccable posture, for he carried himself like a career soldier. However, Anakin had very rarely in the course of his life stopped to consider his actions, and most of the times he _had_ done so involved Obi-Wan or Padmé. As such, Anakin merely followed his lead as the man walked onward into the older, peripheral parts of Lola Curich, where Sienar headquarters had been located before the battle of Lianna.

There were still people about, though not nearly as many as in the city center, and Anakin's blood sang at the prospect of finally, finally, having a solid lead. At last, on a well lit but narrow side street, his quarry disappeared into the old Sienar assembly facility, and Anakin made to follow. He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel the disquiet in the Force, but this was too important. A bad feeling was not going to deter him from following a lead, however slim, not when it might take him to Padmé. Besides, Lianna didn't even have a Stormtrooper garrison, the worst he'd find in here would be local security.

Of course, because if there is one thing Galactic historians can agree upon, it is that the Universe positively hates the Skywalker family, Anakin did not find local security in the dimly lit factory beyond the door.

The man he'd followed here had disappeared, likely into what must have been a full battalion of Stormtroopers, but Anakin had attention only for the tall, black-clad figure who stood at their head. He was human, close to Anakin's own age, and as the last vestiges of Anakin's good mood evaporated, the Sith Lord's red lightsaber came to life with a hiss, casting a bloody light on the assembly machines around him.

Already reaching for his own lightsaber, Anakin sighed, frustration with the Universe as a whole slightly reigned in by the knowledge that he had only himself to blame for what was about to happen.

"Karking hell."

* * *

A/N 2: Now accepting predictions as to how this is gonna go for everyone's favorite Trash Lord. Please leave reviews, even if you're just yelling at me!


	28. Give My Regards to Florrum

Previously, on High Stakes Galactic Pinball...Padmé gets a chance to escape Florrum, the proto-Rebellion moves bases, and Bail gets an intelligence report that tells him where Anakin is.

* * *

9 BBY. Florrum.

In the end, Padmé had wrangled a Starhopper out of Hondo's shipmaster and mechanic. It wasn't as nimble as the N-1s she was used to, but there was room in the little cargo hold for poor Threepio, who had been deactivated for much of the past eight months. Padmé was fond of the droid to the point that his worrying was endearing, but the pirates she shared a compound with were decidedly not, and more often than not, the compound didn't have the power reserves to keep a protocol droid charged anyway. She had also salvaged two of her more practical gowns from her shuttle, and negotiated a pair of blasters out of Hondo, which were strapped conveniently to her thighs. Now, the only thing standing (or floating, as it were) between Padmé and her son was half an Imperial blockade.

Somewhere below her fighter, Hondo's remaining crews lifted off in their flat light cruisers. As of now, she was the only starfighter, but that would change before they engaged the Imperial fleet.

As she pushed the Starhopper higher into Florrum's atmosphere, she indulged in a look back at the little compound in the plains; her home for nearly a year. She could now honestly say she was friends with a number of pirates. And not 'pirates,' of the sort that only stole from the bad guys, either. Honest-to-Goddess drug-dealing pirates. And she liked them, maybe even trusted one or two. In fact, she'd been catching herself lately, wondering if Hondo and his men might consider joining the rebellion. It was stupid, the sort of naïve thinking that had gotten her into trouble as a young Senator, but dammit, she'd miss them.

Then again, if all went well, she'd be joining the criminal underworld herself, and she'd likely see them again someday. She had no illusions about the fight against the Empire. it wouldn't be a clean 'good vs evil' fight; those didn't exist outside the superhero holoseries that Luke loved so much. She knew that was what Bail wanted; a clean war he could feel good about. Bail was an idealist, and once upon a time, when she'd been a Galactic Senator, she'd have called herself one too. Now though, she'd stood in silent acquiescence to the death of worlds, she knew what it was to love so fiercely that it overcame her sense of duty, and she'd smuggled the odd crate of spice, too. Padmé was no angel, and the rebellion her friends were planning was no crusade, either.

Whether or not they realized it, that was the issue.

The trip through the atmosphere was a quick one, and her train of thought was cut off by the thinning of the yellow clouds. Around her, twelve starfighters of various size, shape, and vintage joined her in the sky. She fell in with them as they spiraled upward, toward the vacuum of space. Padmé's fingers twitched on the controls. This was her first combat mission in years, and the first time she'd flown a fighter in more than that. Taking a deep breath, she tuned her headset comm to the correct frequency. After all, even ragtag, mismatched fighter squadrons needed to communicate.

"Raider 6, checking in." she added to the litany, powering up her deflector shields.

"Right, star jockeys," called Raider 1 in a gravelly, but unmistakably female voice. "our job is to keep the enemy fighters away from the Captain's cruisers so they can blow us a hole through what's left of the blockade. Form up on me until the shooting starts, then split into groups of two or three, watch each other's backs."

"Bait," muttered Padmé to herself, rolling her eyes. "my favorite role to play." She tightened her grip on the Starhopper's controls and dipped into formation on Raider 4's port wing, close enough to see Onyo wave at her from inside his cockpit. The thirteen pirate fighters coalesced into a wide wedge, with Raider 1's Hunter-Killer in point position. Padmé raised her eyebrows at two repainted-and likely heavily modified-Headhunters to starboard, idly wondering which poor Republic pilots they'd been stolen from.

Just after the last fighter slipped into the mismatched squadron, the little air remaining gave way to vacuum, and the Imperial blockade appeared on Padmé's scopes, a blinking constellation of red lights on her sensor display. Her fingers twitched again, in anticipation this time, but she held her position on Raider 4's wing and waited for the inevitable first shot.

"Personal spacecraft, identify yourselves." The voice was clipped and professional; the comms officer sounded almost bored. Over their squadron frequency, Raider 1 ordered;

"Radio silence, kids, don't give 'em advance notice."

The thirteen fighters advanced steadily, holding formation, and the comms officer spoke again, sounding far more interested this time.

"Personal spacecraft, be advised: if you do not transmit identification codes immediately, this battle group is authorized to use deadly force."

"This is it, boys!" said Raider 1, and Padmé could hear her savage grin through the headset. "Break off, let's draw some fire!"

With that, the wedge broke into pairs and threes, splitting apart like torn fabric. Padmé wrenched the Starhopper to port, following Raider 4 as green bolts streaked around them. The blockade was rapidly deploying fighters, and already, Hondo's cruisers were firing back, red and green streaks of light marking out a deadly crossfire in the center of the battle. She and Raider 4 kept well clear of the melee as TIEs rocketed out of the Destroyers' hangars.

"Shall we pick off some fighters, 4?" she asked.

"Aye, sounds fun!" came the answer from Onyo, and the pair of fighters wheeled about, streaking for the deploying TIE squadrons.

It was equal parts exhilarating and terrifying; she reacted out of instinct in order to dodge the stray laser bolts, pushing the Starhopper to match Raider 4's speed as they shot towards the TIE squad. As soon as they were in range, Padmé opened fire, sending her own red bolts at the enemy fighters. She scored a solid hit and knocked a TIE off course, but she didn't see what happened after that; they'd already shot overhead, calculating another pass. Beside her, Onyo actually tipped his fighter and waggled his starboard wing mockingly at the TIEs behind them as they flew by.

It was more than enough incentive; the four Imperial fighters gave chase. Padmé and her wingmate led them in a quick chase, ducking in and out of the other little dogfights, harrying where they could and keeping out of the TIE squad's targeting locks. So far so good, it seemed. Hondo's cruiser, in point position, was hammering the smallest of the Imperial ships, and looked to be giving better than she got, judging by the glimpses she got as her ship shot past the action. She and Onyo had just managed to lure one of their pursuing TIE squad into a headlong collision with one of its own light cruisers when a comms operator on their side barked,

"Raider 4, Raider 6, could use some help off _Scimitar_ 's bow."

"On our way." responded Padmé, already pulling the Starhopper around in a tight hairpin dive. The pursuing TIEs, now down to two, scattered out of her line of fire, but not quite fast enough. She clipped one outsized wing, sending the unfortunate fighter into a death spiral that ended in a bright flash of green and white light as it spun into the crossfire between the cruisers.

A cloud of TIEs was indeed swirling around two pirate fighters near the pirate cruiser _Scimitar_ , and Padmé dove into the fray with no hesitation, blasting her way through three of the enemy ships. She thanked the goddesses and Sabé's flight sims as they went up in bright explosions. There was no room for remorse, not until she was out of danger.

Behind her, Onyo sent his fighter into a screaming dive to avoid a barrage of green lasers. He pulled up sharp, firing a salvo of blue lasers. They didn't hit anything, but he succeeded in scattering the enemy TIEs even further apart. Their formation was now utterly broken, giving the pinned pirate ships room to maneuver.

There was a relieved voice on the comm, but Padmé didn't have any attention to spare. A tight grouping of lasers was blasting her way, fired from one of the Imperial cruisers. She wrenched the controls to the side, praying she was fast enough. One bolt clipped the ventral sensors as the Starhopper rolled to the side, and an alarm whistled at her. Padmé swore under her breath, reaching for the aft sensor controls. She powered them up as much as she dared, hoping it would be enough to compensate.

"You all right, 6?" came Onyo's voice over the comm.

"I've been better, but I've got it locked down." she answered, breathless with adrenaline. This fight couldn't go on much longer; the pirate fighters couldn't compete with the TIEs for any significant length of time. They'd already lost close to half their numbers, each death signified by a flash of light and a burst of static in the comm channel. The Starhopper was beginning to protest at Padmé's pushing, and it was only a matter of time before she started to lose maneuverability.

Was this what it was like for Anakin? Goddess above, how could he enjoy this chaos?

Finally, after what seemed like hours, though she knew it had only been a few minutes, the smallest Imperial cruiser's deflector shields failed and it lit up Padmé's targeting computer like a beacon. Instants later, it broke apart under heavy fire from Hondo's three light cruisers and the flaming wreckage began to sink towards Florrum. Padmé and the pirates pressed their sudden advantage, blasting their way through the remains of the skeletal blockade. TIEs pursued, but the fight had ended with the little cruiser's destruction. One by one, the pirate ships slipped through the hole they'd made, and the fighters followed.

With relief flooding her veins, Padmé plugged the coordinates to Chandrila into her navicomputer. Mon's contact there would know where to find the rebellion, and with it, Goddess willing, she'd find Sabé and Luke.

Despite the grim scene she left behind, Padmé smiled as the Starhopper jerked into hyperspace. She'd done it. After eight months of endless frustration, she was on her way back to her son.

9 BBY. Sulon, the Nefra Canyon Network.

Bail's desk was a large, mostly flat chunk of red sandstone, and his office was a cave, but hey, they'd be safe here, at least for a time. The resistance forces had arrived on Sulon only hours before, after nearly a week of deep-space jumps, and Bail was too happy to be breathing fresh, non-recycled air to fret over the state of his makeshift office. The Nefra canyons were an excellent hiding spot, scouted by Dodonna's recon units a few months ago. The extensive cave networks made it ideal for the resistance, and the thick stone masked much of their power signatures and internal transmissions from prying eyes.

All in all, Bail was having a nice afternoon. Though Sulon's surface was humid and warm, the caves circulated a constant cool breeze, and the chaos of moving gave him the perfect excuse to avoid his more tedious work. Unfortunately, he reflected as he looked at his blinking comms array, there were some decisions that couldn't be put off any further.

The message had been waiting for him upon realspace reentry. It was short and to the point, the sort of courteous invitation he'd received more times than he could count in his time as a Senator. Granted, his Coruscanti invitations were generally to dinners and galas, and this one was to a meeting of significant rebel groups from across the Galaxy, but still, it gave him an odd sense of déjà vu.

Bail knew, of course, that his group of rebels was far from alone in the Galaxy; he'd been making overtures to Ferus Olin's band on Bellassa for months now, but the idea of meeting them all face to face was daunting, to say the least. Some would be like Olin's group, similar to Bail's own, but more would not. The only thing they all had in common was a hatred for the Empire.

No, if he was going to go to this meeting, he wanted powerful friends. His little band of spies and refugees needed all the help it could get, but Bail was simply not willing to relinquish his position as leader to some Separatist holdout, nor yet to a terrorist like Bo Katan Kryze. Unfortunately, while Bail had a number of famous friends, none of them would be able to accompany him to the meet. Mon, after all, was needed on Dac, Padmé was missing in action, and his Jedi friends were otherwise occupied on missions of their own. With a heavy sigh, Bail dropped his forehead into his hands. Why couldn't a solution just drop into his lap, the way they always did for holomovie heroes?

Times like these made him miss Breha more than usual. She'd been raised with politics; she always, always knew what to do. Bail would never understand what she'd seen in him all those years ago, but she'd made him into the diplomat he was today. Though now, as he thought of his whip-smart wife, he found he knew what she'd say.

 _Space it. I'm going._

With his decision came new energy, which was good, as attending a gathering of traitors required quite a bit of planning. His first order of business was to pick out a delegation. He couldn't count on his friends for help, the conference was in a week's time on Corellia, and there was no guarantee that Ahsoka or Obi-Wan would be back by then. Still, he commed Mon and told her of his decision to go. Her smile was somewhere between excited and predatory, but then Mon had always been a little vindictive when it came to those she hated.

"Good," she said now, leaning forward, "This is the first step towards real legitimacy. At the very least, we'll make some new friends, and at best-" Her eyes were shining with hope as she went on. "Bail, we could have a real force to be reckoned with."

"I need more pull," he said, "Some of these groups will be serious extremists, I can't let us become beholden to them. If you or Padmé were here-" he trailed off, frustrated.

"I know," murmured Mon, "I'd be there if I could, believe me. And Padmé-" she shook her head, sighing. "Padmé ought to be there, this is her fight too." Bail opened his mouth to agree, but then he was struck by a surge of inspiration. He grinned, slow and victorious.

"Go on, my friend," said Mon softly. "See to that idea you just had." She gave him a warm smile, and cut the connection with a wave. Still grinning, Bail called his messenger in.

"Go and find Sabé Vertie," he said firmly. "I need her assistance immediately." As the boy, the teenaged son of an escaped political prisoner, departed, Bail sank into his desk chair and allowed himself a deep, relaxing breath. A few more hours of planning, and he could head for his bunk for the night, carried to sleep by a good day's work.

And of course, because if the Force actually exists as a sentient entity, its favorite hobby is, without a doubt, screwing with Bail Organa, Sabé hadn't even arrived in his office before the intelligence report flagging the Star Destroyer _Inexorable's_ sudden relocation to the Lianna system came through and threw a spanner in his plans. This couldn't wait for a messenger, so Bail punched the Ops Commander's frequency into his personal comm and barked, too on edge for a greeting,

"Commander, I need an Extraction Team up here, now. I've got a priority alpha mission."

Approximately 45 Minutes Later. The Main Hangar of the Rebel Base on Sulon.

As it turned out, there wasn't really anything for Deck Officers to do on moving days. The first of the Rebel convoys had arrived on Sulon not even three hours ago, and the big cave they were using as a hangar was buzzing with activity, but there were no comings and goings to keep track of, and Colonel Rieekan's ships weren't due to show up until tomorrow at the earliest, so Junior Deck Officer Graal Senreiko found himself uncharacteristically unoccupied. However, he'd decided it was in his best interest to at least look busy, lest the harried unloading crews haul him off to help them lift heavy things all afternoon. With this in mind, he made a show of polishing his (brand new) rank badge, and tried his best to look purposeful as he walked across the mostly empty hangar.

When he'd nearly reached the other side of the cave, Graal noticed a squad of geared-up and well-armed beings marching towards the Senior Deck Officer. Sensing an opportunity to be legitimately busy for a few minutes, Graal practically tripped over himself to get over to his boss, and managed to skid to a stop at Officer Keteris' elbow just before the squad reached him. He recognized the group as Extraction Team Viceroy, so called because all of them had been, in one way or another, connected with the Confederacy of Independent Systems. There were four of them, led by the truly terrifying Lieutenant Axa, a solidly built human woman with half a head of tightly braided turquoise hair and burn scars stretching across the right side of her face, neck, and skull. Graal knew her by reputation only; stories told at mess and on shift. The night cycle watch actually had a betting pool going as to which of them might sack up enough to speak to her outside of work, and in the three months it had been going, none of them had claimed it. Now, she gave Keteris a curt nod and handed him a datapad, Viceroy Organa's signature flashing a gentle blue on its screen. Keteris looked it over, then turned to Graal and snapped;

"Senreiko, find the Lieutenant an inconspicuous ship. Hyperspace-capable and weapons hot." Graal jumped, pulled out his datapad with the ship inventory he'd made after debarking earlier, and flipped through it as quickly as his fingers would let him.

"Here you are, Sir." he said, holding the pad out to Axa, "The _Artemion,_ she's in Bay 25, just over there." He pointed in illustration at the ship, a small, battered freighter. Axa nodded, her expression still coolly professional.

"Khalida?" she asked over her shoulder. The Umbaran behind her leaned forward to glance over Graal's datapad, and smiled, pale eyes glinting in the low light.

"Sure, LT, I can fly that." Axa nodded once, and turned back to Keteris, her sharp, dark gaze sliding over Graal like he was so much chopped nerf.

"It will do." she said shortly, and jerked her chin at the rest of her team. They stalked off en masse, headed for the ship, and Keteris took a deep, shaky breath.

"Scary, ain't she?" Graal remarked. Keteris rolled his eyes.

"She's good at what she does, s'all that matters to me. What's scary is that Organa's sending an extraction team in after a Jedi Knight." Seeing Graal's look of confusion, Keteris snorted. "You oughta read, kid. Their orders are to go to Lianna and pull Anakin Skywalker out. I'll tell you, anything that's got a kriffing Jedi needing an evac is something I do not want after me."

And, as he turned to watch the _Artemion_ lift off and glide away from the base, Graal found himself agreeing, a chill running down his spine.

* * *

A/N: I AM STILL ALIVE. And I WILL finish this, I will. Let me know your thoughts on the fight, the plan, and the new OCs because I apparently can't stop creating and adding them. Virtual cookies to the lovelies who notice the Clone Wars shout out in this chapter. As always, your comments fuel both my soul and my muse.


	29. Two Fights, Both Alike in Dignity

Ha! I'm back! Previously: Luke and Leia figure out that they're twins, but Luke doesn't take it so well, Obi-Wan recruits Ventress to help on a Rebel mission and comes face to face with his feelings for her, and Anakin walks into a trap.

* * *

9 BBY. Raxus, City of Tamwith Bay.

Raxus, as it turned out, was Galactic for 'fanciest planet ever.' In less than two hours dirtside, several billion credits had flown in and out of Tamwith Bay, and Han felt extraordinarily out of place in his shabby cargo trousers and too-big boots. He shoved his hands into his pockets and scuffed one foot back and forth against the spaceport's smooth, not-covered-in-unidentifiable-substances floor and wished he knew how to act. After all, if he had any idea how civilized beings acted, maybe he'd be on the cool-as-all-hells undercover cargo pickup instead of here watching the ship. Kriff's sake, Luke'd had to learn code words and everything, and Han was stuck babysitting the _Falcon_ and the other member of their party who didn't have any idea how to order a fancy caf or wear silk slippers or whatever it was that rich beings did.

Han was distracted from his brooding by a bony elbow in his ribs, and he manfully refrained from jumping six feet in the air, choosing instead to glare down at said fellow Ruffian.

"What?" he snapped (didn't yelp, _didn't,_ shut up) _._ Her Tiny, Grubby Majesty glared right back.

"This is the worst mission ever." she said. "Even _Luke_ got to go with them, and he has no idea how to shoot a blaster or-or-anything!" Han sighed. The Twin Terrors had been weird ever since this morning on the ship, barely talking to each other and coming up with excuses to hang around with other people during the approach to the planet. Now, apparently, they'd graduated to insults.

"Hey, what's goin' on with you and him, huh?" Ignoring her little huff of annoyance, he continued. "Yesterday I couldn't pay you to quit bouncing off the _Falcon's_ bulkheads playin' tag and today you haven't said a good word for him. Did he insult Tatooine or what?" Leia renewed her glare, but after a moment, she sighed.

"No, he's being stupid about stuff."

"Oh, gee, Your Worship, that was so helpful. You teach classes on how to answer questions?" For that, Leia drew back her small foot and kicked him, hard, in the shin. "Ow, hey!"

"Shut up, Laser Brain, I wasn't done yet!" she snapped. "I figured out why that holo of Luke's mom was in Dad's stuff. Or, at least I think I did. I have to ask Dad to be sure, but I'm pretty sure Luke and I are twins." Han's jaw dropped.

"But you-"

"No, listen." She cut him off. "It all makes sense, but Luke thinks Dad and his mom don't love each other anymore, or that Dad didn't want him around or something, and he won't _listen_ when I try to tell him he's being stupid."

"Yeah, I'd say you're on the right side of that fight, kid." said Han. From what Han knew of Anakin Skywalker, there's no way in the nine hells he wouldn't want his kids around, whatever his feelings about their mom. Leia's eyes flicked to the ground and back.

"I mean," she said, voice going soft. "my mom would've wanted me, right?" She looked suddenly very small and every inch her age. Han grinned.

"Course she did, who wouldn't want you around? After all, 's'not like you could be all annoying and violent when you were just a baby, right?" And that brought the glare back, just like he'd meant it to.

Better angry than sad, sad'll get you a whole lotta nowhere.

"Bantha brains," she said, still scowling, "why do you always have to be so-" and then her eyes went wide. "Shavit! Troopers!"

Ruwee was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Ahsoka knew she'd been less than cheery for the kids, but between planning her op and wrangling her fractious team, she simply hadn't had time to put on her smiling auntie face lately. Still, Ruwee's behavior was impossible to miss. Normally, the kid was like a miniature sun, all smiles and boundless energy that made Ahsoka miss her own childhood. Today, with his dour expression, he looked much more like his mother than usual. Maybe he missed Sabé. Though she ran the occasional errand for Bail, the woman seemed highly reluctant to leave Ruwee for longer than a day or so; this trip had to be the longest stretch of time they'd been apart in months.

"Chin up, little one," she murmured "You're a happy kid on vacation today, right?" Ruwee blinked up at her, then nodded and very deliberately smiled, wide and genuine. Had she not known better, Ahsoka would have thought it real. She grinned back, keeping her misgivings hidden. It had been Former Commander Arana's idea to bring Ruwee along into the city, and she wasn't entirely sure the deflection of suspicion bought by his presence was worth the danger he was in, however potential it might be. Mashan's death still hung heavy on her heart, and she'd be far happier to have Ruwee safe on the ship with Han and Leia.

Rex's voice crackled against her montrals, drawing her from her thoughts. "Potential target spotted." he said. "Preparing to engage." She turned, ostensibly looking for a waiter, and saw Rex and his brothers approach a short Rodian in a blue scarf. He bent down a touch to speak to him and after a moment, the Rodian nodded. Rex smiled tightly and shot Ahsoka a hand signal before following their contact down the street. As the pair walked, Ko-Iri and Arana pushed away from the buildings they'd been watching from and followed at a discreet distance. After a moment, Ahsoka took Ruwee's hand and followed along, making sure to keep Ko-Iri's bright head in sight.

Their contact took them not to the main spaceport, but to a tiny, privately owned landing strip at the back of an equally tiny warehouse. Had to be some obnoxiously rich trader's private customs house. Ahsoka shook her head, half annoyed and half relieved. There was something to be said for Raxus and its extreme insistence on corporate privacy. On any other Mid-Rim world, this place wouldn't exist, and on the off-chance it did, it'd be crawling with Imperials. Their cargo was waiting in the warehouse as agreed upon, a few months' worth of food and medical supplies, critical for their friends on Sulon. The Rodian nodded at the rest of the team as they came in, and gestured to the crates, already loaded on a gravsled.

"As you can see, the agreed upon cargo is all here." He said. "My employer said the payment was to be in information?" Rex nodded. This was his negotiation, had been since the beginning, so for the day, he was in charge. Besides, the less memorable they were, the better, and people tended to remember Ahsoka. Rex, Jesse, and Kix, less so, at least when Jesse kept his tattoo hidden. The Galaxy seemed intent upon forgetting that clones had ever existed, ever been bred for war and death by the Senate and Jedi.

"Your blackmail, as promised." Said Rex, holding out a datachip. Though not exactly noble, corporate espionage was a pretty good way to pay for food, which, meant their dirt-poor resistance movement did kind of a lot of it. That was a main reason Ahsoka hadn't brought the kids along on a supply run before now. They had a bright-eyed idealistic view of the resistance forces, and she hated to make them grow up any faster than they already were. Sure enough, Ruwee went stiff at her side, eyes narrowed at Rex and the Rodian, who had by now taken the chip and handed Rex the ignition chip for the sled.

"Enjoy your spoils, friend. My employer hopes you will see us again."

He'd already turned to leave the warehouse when the Force twanged around her like an abused viol string, harsh and heavy with warning. Her hand shot to her blaster grip as the warehouse door exploded inwards in a cloud of choking white smoke and Stormtroopers boiled through the gap.

"Imperial agents! On your knees, now!" barked a tinny voice. Ahsoka couldn't see through the smoke, but she heard loud and clear, Jesse's voice in response;

"At least buy me dinner first, Egg-Head!"

This statement was immediately followed by blasterfire, so Ahsoka wrapped an arm around Ruwee's stomach and hauled him behind the gravsled, swearing an internal blue streak. Yep, nope, she was never taking another minor anywhere, ever.

"Stay low." She hissed, and Ruweee nodded. "You know how to use this?" she asked, pulling her tiny holdout blaster. Another nod.

"Mom taught me what all the pieces are." He whispered. Ahsoka flipped the gun's setting to Stun and pressed it into his hands. Sabé was going to kill her anyway, might as well be skinned for a nexu, not a pitten.

"Don't shoot anyone who isn't an Imp, okay?"

Ahsoka tumbled out from behind the sled and found the smoke had cleared enough to get a look at the situation. Thank the Force, Ko-Iri hadn't drawn her 'saber, but was covering Jesse with a blaster while he reloaded, and Rex, wearing a deeply put-upon expression, was flat against the warehouse wall, laying down cover fire as Arana sprinted across the open space, headed for the cover of the two speeders parked in the corner. The Rodian messenger, apparently not a fighter, was flat on his stomach with his hands over his head in another corner.

Good news, there was only one squad of troopers, and they were the softer Customs boys, not seasoned soldiers. Now that the shooting had started and hadn't immediately stopped again, they were way, way out of their depth. Standard six-week boot camp training didn't prepare a being for an actual fight, and Ahsoka's team had a lifetime of experience between them.

"Keep at least one alive." She ordered over comms, and caught Rex's affirmative nod. His next shot was aimed, not a stun bolt, they didn't have time to wait for the trooper to wake up, but a clean shot through the trooper Captain's thigh. The Captain, female by build, dropped with a scream, clutching at the glowing wound. Ahsoka ducked an errant red streak, and spared a second to make sure Ruwee was still behind the sled, out of her line of sight, before she put a blaster bolt into a white breastplate. This was traumatizing enough already, the kid didn't need to see anything more. As though her kill shot had been a signal, Kix and Jesse took aim at white helmets next, and, as per usual, found them, dropping two more troopers with little ceremony and even less noise. Now down four, the remaining troopers decided to cut their losses and someone, probably the Sergeant, howled,

"Retreat, retreat!" And normally, normally, Ahsoka would let them go. She wasn't fond of shooting beings in the back, not even Imperials. But not today, not without knowing why they'd raided the warehouse. Because it could be coincidence, but Ahsoka couldn't afford to stake her life, nor the lives of her team, on that chance. She locked eyes with Rex over the empty space. He nodded, just barely, and shot a fleeing Stormtrooper through the spine.

He'd given her orders in his actions, so she didn't have to speak them in front of Ruwee, and her squad followed them. The last three men died in seconds. No sooner had the last fallen than Ahsoka rose out of her crouch and went straight to Ruwee's position before he could move. He was sitting where she'd left him, holding her blaster with a set, determined look on his white face. Sabé was going to _kill_ her.

"Hey, kid." She murmured, sinking to one knee in front of him, gesturing to the blaster. "Can I have that back?" Ruwee's eyes snapped up to hers, looking wild, and he said, voice soft and young,

"They're all-they're all dead." It wasn't a question, and all of a sudden, Ahsoka realized the cold aura in the room was more than Ko-Iri's adrenaline, more than the heavy echo of recent, violent death in the Force. All of that was there, of course, but so, too, was a child's shock and raw horror. And Leia wasn't here, so it had to be emanating from the boy.

Ruwee was Force-sensitive. And now that she'd _realized,_ he felt almost-familiar. Almost like-

Ruwee was. Ruwee was. A fake name, apparently. She was going to have _words_ with Obi-Wan over this, thank you very much.

Ruwee-no, Luke, _Luke_ was still staring, wide-eyed and scared.

Ahsoka shook herself, shoved her outrage into a corner to deal with later, and projected a wash of calm into the Force, felt it wrap, gentle and warm, around Luke's mind, and saw some of the wild terror go from the boy's face.

"I'm sorry you saw this." She said, laying one hand along his cheek and tugging the holdout blaster out of his slack grip with the other. "I shouldn't have brought you into this situation, and I'll understand if you can't forgive me. If you'll shut your eyes for me, we'll go, okay?" There was the injured trooper Captain to consider, and questions that needed answering, but Rex could handle that. The kid came first.

"Back to the ship?" asked Luke, apprehensive. Ahsoka nodded.

"Straight back, I swear. We'll wait for everyone else with Leia and Han." Luke grabbed her hand and shut his eyes.

"Tell me when we're outside again?" Ahsoka squeezed his hand.

"Sure, kid. Sure." She led Luke out from behind the gravsled and to the warehouse door, pausing only to exchange a look and a couple of hand signals with Rex, telling him to finish the op.

Thankfully, it was a pleasant day on Raxus; the mild sunshine saturating the narrow access alley outside created a night-and-day contrast to the cramped, scorched dark of the warehouse. Ahsoka walked until they were far enough from the doorway that the silhouettes of fallen troopers were indistinguishable from the general dark, and then told Luke to open his eyes again. He did so immediately, blinking in the sun. After a few minutes of walking, he said,

"Can you talk? 'S really quiet." Ahsoka obliged, and passed the rest of the walk back to the _Falcon_ by detailing the Interceptor she'd flown in the War for him, sketching the ship with her hands in midair as they walked. He listened with a look of intense focus on his face, gradually relaxing as she spoke. By the time they ducked into Tamwith Bay Spaceport, he'd even started asking questions again, making Ahsoka marvel once again at the resilience of children.

So, of course, that was when she noticed how there were definitely not two loud, dark-haired kids hanging around the _Falcon_ where she'd left them.

Haar'chak, could _nothing_ go her way today?

Worst. Day. _Ever._

That was all Leia could think. First, there was the kinda-sorta fight with Luke, then she'd gotten stuck on ship-watching duty, and now, _now,_ she was in kriffing binders because they'd run into maybe the only Troopers in the Mid-Rim who'd actually bother to run papers through their system instead of just looking at the chips and moving on with their lives.

Or course, both Han and Leia's papers were fake, given to them specifically for this mission. And apparently, whoever Ahsoka's bosses used to make fake papers was no good at their job. And yeah, if she'd just mind tricked them to begin with, they wouldn't be in this mess. But she hated mind tricking beings, and she'd thought, since they actually had papers this time, she'd get to avoid it. But no, no, the Galaxy had a bone to pick with her this week. So here she was, sitting in a cold metal chair in a cold metal room, waiting for someone to come talk to her and wondering how in Han's nine hells she was gonna get out of here. Leia'd been scared before, like real, oh-Force-I-might-really-die scared. Both times before, Dad had been there, and everything had happened so fast, she hadn't had time to panic much before the moment passed and she was out of danger again. Today-wasn't like that.

Because if they figured out who-or what-she was, they'd probably kill her. Dad had just about said that on the bounty hunter's ship, and that Sith had sure as anything tried to blow them up on Nar Shaddaa. Han was a good friend, but he was just as handcuffed as she was, and he wasn't Dad, couldn't move mountains with his mind or shoot the ear flap off a womp rat at fifty meters. Auntie probably didn't even know they were in trouble, and that meant Leia was kriffing _sunk._ Distantly, she noticed her hands were shaking, the binders rattling gently against the hard surface of the table.

She was nine-years-old, and all she wanted, in that moment, was for the door to open and Dad to be there, dusty and warm, presence blazing through the Force like the suns back home.

Forget adventures and Rebels, Leia just wanted to feel _safe and home_ again.

9 BBY. The Outer Rim.

"I have a bad feeling about this." said Obi-Wan, looking down at the forbidding mountain stronghold in which Cad Bane had agreed to meet them.

Beside him, Asajj rolled her eyes. "I wish you'd stop saying that. It always seems to attract trouble." Obi-Wan shrugged, squinting against the sharp glare of the fluorescent landing lights as he brought his borrowed freighter down onto the landing platform, which was little more than a narrow ledge over a deep river gorge. The river itself had long since given way to dry rock, but the leaden cloud cover above told him the planet's climate was far from dry. Ordinarily, of course, Obi-Wan wouldn't have spent so much time observing the climate of the random Outer Rim world he'd found himself on, but today he had quite a bit to avoid thinking about, not the least of which was Cad Bane.

Asajj had waited for nearly five full minutes, while Obi-Wan tried to come up with something to say to her gentle command. Eventually, though, she'd given up and gone to sleep, her back to him. Try as he might, Obi-Wan still didn't know what to say. In a flash, he'd been forced to recognize a number of things; first, that he knew Asajj better than anyone else in the Galaxy, that despite her rough and broken edges, he found her engaging and spirited, and, most disturbingly, he'd well and truly missed her, to the point that her absence had had a significant effect on him.

The feelings he had for her were different, he thought, than what he'd felt with Siri and Satine. He'd been a boy when he'd met them; with no idea of the sort of suffering life could hold. If he was honest with himself, Asajj had been right in saying that the Jedi Order was dead. Had he been Anakin, whose very identity depended on his love for others, that would have been more than enough reason to throw caution to the winds.

For better or worse though, Obi-Wan was not Anakin, and he'd been through too much loss and heartbreak to dive headfirst into another emotional entanglement. Beyond that, he was still a Jedi, with or without an Order, and to contemplate purposefully engaging in an emotional attachment was simply abhorrent to him. His mind just shied away from any thought of Asajj in that light.

And yet.

He missed her. He missed her sharp tongue and her solid, cool presence in the Force beside him. Too often in the past months, he'd made a dry, dark joke to blank stares and thought, _she'd have enjoyed that._

Somewhere in the last few years, Asajj Ventress had carved out a space in Obi-Wan's heart, in between the ragged holes called Qui-Gon, Siri, and Satine, and while he wasn't entirely sure he could throw caution to the wind and pursue a relationship with her, he also didn't particularly want to rip her out, either.

But this wasn't the time, and Obi-Wan was nothing if not excellent at compartmentalization. So, he shoved his internal conflict onto a shelf to be dealt with later, and focused his attention on the problem at hand.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" he asked Asajj, looking up at the gate to the stronghold. It had once been a nobleman's home, Obi-Wan thought, and though it had been abandoned by civilization for many years, its weathered structures were still quite imposing.

She looked at him sidelong, raising one sharp brow-bone in annoyance.

"Very sure." She said. "There is very little Bane values more than money, but the chance to kill you will definitely make the cut. If you wanted to back me up in this, you should have found a disguise. Besides," she added, a sly grin twisting her lips. "I'm a big girl, I can handle myself."

She left him on the ship, a worried frown wrinkling his forehead. She might have been touched at his concern, had he been less irritating over the past two days.

As a general rule, Asajj Ventress did not expose herself the way she had in the motel room last night, and to have done so and been left hanging was equal parts painful and embarrassing, a feeling to which she was profoundly unaccustomed.

She didn't like it, and as the tall, heavy gates opened to admit her into Cad Bane's retreat, she was almost hoping she'd get to hit something.

It was a nice place, though old and rather musty on the inside. Bane had been out of the bounty-hunting game for a few years now, and had become one of very few who managed to actually retire instead of dying in some seedy backwater. Cad Bane had always been good at looking after himself. He was well past his prime in terms of physicality, though rumor and her own rather more reliable circles of information in the criminal underworld agreed that his mind was sharp as ever.

A small droid, floating around her eye-level, met her as she entered the foyer.

"You have a meeting, yes?" it inquired pleasantly. Asajj nodded.

"Your boss is expecting me."

"This way, please." The droid set off along the luma-lit hallway, bobbing gently in the air. Asajj checked the fastenings on her twin wrist holsters and followed. The droid led her to a turbolift, and up to the top floor of the structure, which was high up enough to sit above the heavy cloud cover, and natural light from the planet's weak sun filtered gently through floor-to-ceiling windows in the hallway leading from the lift door. The droid bobbed happily down this hallway, stopping before a pair of dark wood doors, and a soft chime emanated from its body. Cad Bane's scratchy, slightly distorted drawl answered.

"Show her in, Oh-Tee." The droid hummed, and the door swung inward with barely a sound. Asajj straightened her spine, and stalked inside, settling a Sith Lord's callous, arrogant demeanor over her frame.

"Nice to finally meet you, Bane." She said, brushing past the pair of assassin droids guarding the door. The being himself rose from the armchair he'd been lounging in. Age had weathered his face, carving the lines around his mouth into true wrinkles, but he was still tall and lithe, and the handshake he offered was firm. As a former apprentice of Count Dooku, Asajj knew better than to assume much about an old warrior.

"So it's true, then." He mused, more to himself than her. "Dooku's assassin, alive and well. My sources have always been split, you know, on whether you made it past the end of the war. It's not too difficult to steal a lightsaber, after all."

"You'd know." She said, inclining her head. He hadn't made a game out of it like Greivous, but during the war, he'd killed his fair share of Jedi.

"I would. But enough about old times. You're here about the Mon Cala military officers, Miss Ventress?" Inwardly, Asajj bristled at the condescension, but she let none of it show in her expression. This man had more than earned his reputation, no matter how long ago it had been.

"Wouldn't have pegged you for an agitator." He continued, with a dark chuckle. "Doing a favor for a friend, are you?"

a tendril of ice crept down her spine. He couldn't know, _no one_ had known Obi-Wan had been on Corellia, and she'd stayed well away from him since he'd joined up with his rebels. Bane was fishing, and she was no idiot. She grinned, sharp and venomous.

"Please, you know the game. I have no friends, only clients. I work for who pays me, and I'm not about to tell you who that is." She crossed her arms. "Now, I believe an arrangement was discussed. I have the money, if you have my intel." Bane smiled, not at all nicely.

"A girl after my own heart." He said, still grinning. "I have your information, though it was hard to come by. Money, then gossip." Asajj pulled the pouch of credits from the hidden pocket in her boot, and set it down on the low table with a clink.

"30,000, as agreed upon. Do you want to count it?" He shrugged.

"I'll do it later, I trust you're aware of what happens to those who cross me." He crossed the room to his desk, and pulled a chip from a locked drawer.

"Your fish are being transferred in the next couple of days, you'll have to catch up with them at their destination. They're being sent to the prison on Dathomir. One of them's missing, though. A Gial Ackbar was arrested with the other six, but isn't on the prison transport to Dathomir's manifest. I can't be sure where that one is, but there are a few guesses on your chip, there." Asajj nodded, and turned to go.

"One more thing, Miss Ventress. I was disappointed not to meet your friend, the one you met for drinks on Nal Hutta the other day." Asajj froze, she couldn't help it. "Did you think I wouldn't hear about that? Funny, it sure looked like you were drinking with a ghost." Her finger twitched to the catch on her wrist holster, and Cad Bane laughed.

"Don't worry, girl, you'll leave here today. I don't like a hunt to be too easy. But you tell him, your ghost-" He leaned forward, his eyes glinting bloody in the pale sunlight.

"Tell him I owe him a debt, and I don't forget so easy."

Lianna. Capital City of Lola Curich.

 _Should have spent more time with your 'saber in the last nine years, Skywalker,_ thought Anakin as the weapon in question ignited, throwing eerie shadows around the old factory.

He allowed himself one more long suffering sigh, and then brought his blade up into defensive position. Across the room from him, the Sith Lord grinned, teeth glinting red in the light of his own lightsaber.

"You may not know this, Jedi, but I have been looking forward to meeting you." he said with a mocking nod.

"I wish I could say the same, Sith." responded Anakin. "Can we get on with this?" He watched the grin slide off the other man's face and twirled his lightsaber in a tight spiral around his hand to bleed off some of the adrenaline flooding his veins. He saw it a nanosecond before it happened, the slightest tensing in the Sith's leg that telegraphed his lunge, and Anakin whipped his lightsaber up to meet the red blade in a flash of light. Absently, he noticed the troopers start at the sudden movement, and then he had no attention at all for anything other than the fight.

The Sith fought like nothing Anakin had ever encountered, fast and brutally strong. He was also fresh, well-rested and unhurt where Anakin hadn't slept properly in nearly a week and had just spent several hours getting intimately acquainted with unsecured cargo crates. Within half a dozen moves, Anakin was on the defensive, barely managing to keep his 'saber in between the Sith's lightning-fast slashes and his body, let alone make a counterattack. The Sith knew it, too, his grin was back, more savage and mocking than ever.

"So," he drawled over their locked blades, shoving against Anakin's guard. "this is the Chosen One. I must say, I expected more, Jedi."

And Anakin saw an opening. Busy taunting, the man had put just a fraction too much weight on his front foot.

Fast as he could, Anakin jerked his lightsaber back, violently (and very sloppily, somewhere, Master Drallig had his head in his hands) breaking the lock, spun away from the red blade as it slashed down, uncontrolled, and ducked low, sweeping his right leg into the Sith's back ankle to take it out from under him. He felt the other man's lightsaber sear across his shoulder as he dropped, but it was just a touch, not enough to seriously injure.

"Not a Jedi anymore." He snapped, rolling back to his feet as the Sith planted his hand and flipped off the ground to avoid faceplanting into it.

"Well executed, if crass." said the Sith loftily, landing atop a long-deactivated conveyor belt. Anakin rolled his eyes, wondering what it was about the Dark Side that made all its servants so kriffing condescending. At least Dooku had been both planetary nobility and in his eighties. This guy was barely, if any, older than Anakin himself.

Which, actually, thought Anakin as the Sith threw himself off the conveyor, sweeping his blade in a lazy arc intended for Anakin's midsection, was kind of a problem. Even Force-assisted, Dooku hadn't been able to recover like that. Less than five seconds had passed since he'd broken the lock. Another just-fast-enough block later, their blades crashed together once more, spitting sparks.

The sad truth of it was, Anakin wasn't in practice enough for a true duel; it was a matter of luck and reflex he hadn't been caught yet. He needed some space to think in, to focus, and he needed it sooner rather than later, before that luck ran out. The Sith's banter meant he was playing still, enjoying the fight. He'd very obviously been looking forward to this. Anakin, on the other hand, had no interest in any destined 'who's the best duelist in the Galaxy' shavit today, and would be perfectly happy to escape with his remaining limbs intact.

With that in mind, Anakin ducked the Sith's next slash, bunching his legs beneath him, and leapt high, letting the Force push him. Scarcely three meters below the ceiling of the factory, he caught an i-beam and swung himself easily up onto it.

That gave him a crucial two seconds to breathe, reach for the Force. For all that it was sour and cold in here with the Sith's presence, it still sang to him, and here was where, ironically, he had the advantage.

If you'd told Anakin, ten years ago, that one day he'd be relying more on his focus than his saber, he'd have laughed. Raising a Force-sensitive child alone in a desert, though, tended to change one's attitude towards, well, just about everything. So, by the time the Sith blurred into existence on the i-beam and lunged for him, Anakin was ready. He batted the red blade aside and leapt again, clear across the factory. The Sith snarled, the teasing, playful edge to his demeanor gone.

"What's this?" he shouted across the gap between them. "I thought the Chosen One was a fighter! Lost your nerve and your edge in the desert, did you?"

And the thing, the thing was that ten years ago, that would have worked. Even at the end of the war, General Skywalker wouldn't let that remark go. Today, Anakin had rather more to worry about than youthful pride, though, and so he just shrugged and jumped, reaching for the skylight above him. It was narrow, but he thought he could squeeze through, and once he was out of the Sith's sight, he'd be able to blend into the crowds and-

The warning screamed in the Force, and he got his lightsaber around in time to deflect the blaster bolt before it caught his back, but his momentum was gone and he had to grab at the lip of a support strut to avoid a very undignified fall. When he got his feet on solid metal, the Sith was already there, slashing at his legs. A nasty smile had replaced his snarl, and Anakin realized with a sinking feeling that he'd underestimated the man's rage, or at least the extent to which he let it control him.

It was the same every time. Anakin could put distance between them; with the Force blanketing his mind, he was faster on the draw than the Sith, but when he got close to an exit, the troopers on the ground laid down enough fire that he was forced to turn and defend himself or die.

He was trapped.

* * *

A/N: I did it, I conquered this chapter. Two or maybe three to go, and I'll try not to be so slow :/ Let me know what you think, please! Reviews are my inspiration!


	30. Don't Cry Mercy

A/N: Hello, friends, I am back. Hopefully some of you are still around. Previously, Padmé escapes the Empire in a borrowed ship, Ahsoka and Co, plus the Twins and Han, go on a supply run that goes bad when Leia and Han are arrested, and Anakin gets into a duel with a Sith Lord.

9BBY. Dac.

Padmé was well past tired and into exhausted when she took her ship out of hyperspace, out of Dac's sensor range. Call her paranoid, but she couldn't take the chance that her call to Mon would be intercepted. She hadn't run an Imperial blockade and lived with Goddess-forsaken _pirates_ for nearly a year only to be captured now.

Mon picked up after what felt like an eternity. Padmé had coded the holo frequency to be voice-only, which was enough of a risk. Last she'd heard, Dac didn't have a huge Imperial presence, but there were undoubtedly troopers here, and she didn't want to draw attention to herself.

"Who's this?" said Mon, suspicion lacing her tone. Padmé relaxed at her old friend's voice.

"A friend." She said simply. Mon's breath came out in a rush, audible in the comm's pickup.

"Indeed you are, my dear." she said, tone grave. "But I'm afraid you mustn't stay."

"What's happened?"

"My business is delayed, the political climate on Dac is making things difficult. I shouldn't say anything more." Padmé's heart sank. The Empire must have cracked down on Dac in the months she had been out of the Galactic loop.

 _Goddess, let Mon be safe._

"Well, when can I see you, old friend? It's been too long."

"I agree," said Mon, "Tell you what, how about you go to my vacation home on Brentaal? There's no need to worry about silly politics there, and when I'm done here, I can come meet you!" She gasped again, affecting excitement, "Oh! I'll invite some more friends there, won't that be nice! The old gang back together!" Padmé's brows came down. Brentaal IV was practically on top of Imperial Center, deep in the Core. Safety's sake, surely there were better places to meet?

"That does sound like fun," said Padmé. She didn't need to fake the hesitation in her tone. "I suppose I can be there in a couple of days?"

"Lovely!" chirped Mon, sounding nothing like the somber woman she was. "I'm sure I'll see you soon! Now, go on, you! Leave me to my work!" The comm call cut out. Padmé sighed and, feeling rather like a negaball, plugged Brentaal IV's coordinates into her navicomputer. As the stars stretched around her once more, she reflected, only a little shamefacedly, that she would quite literally kill for a shower with real water.

9 BBY. Aboard the _Tantive III,_ Somewhere Between Sulon and Corellia

"I take it that's not a good message?" asked Sabé, raising one immaculate eyebrow at him. Bail frowned, looking up from the text on his datapad.

"It's-an interesting message." He murmured. "Call down to the bridge, will you, and have them change course. We need to make a stop on Brentaal on the way to the meeting." Sabé's sharp gaze snapped up, all teasing light gone from her eyes.

"That's in an entirely different sector-The timetable-Organa, we _cannot_ miss this meeting!"

"I'm well aware." Growled Bail. "Don't presume to tell me what this movement does and doesn't need, Sabé. I trust your advice as a counterespionage expert, but politics is _my_ area."

"I would never." Said Sabé coolly. "I simply meant, with the considerable effort taken on my part to ensure that this meeting goes the way we need it to, I'll be _incredibly_ irritated if it's for nothing." She waved a hand in the air. "For Goddess' sake, Organa, it's been years since I was Padmé's double, it'll take hours to get my face made up right." Bail sighed.

"Then you can use the extra time to make sure it's perfect." He snapped. "Mon wouldn't have me stop off for her dry-cleaning, this is important." She turned and stalked out, pausing only to shoot over her shoulder;

"I hope you know what you're doing, _Senator._ " Irritated, Bail made a rude gesture at the door. Spirits, but Sabé was annoying. Bail didn't remember much of her during her tenure as Padmé's handmaiden, but in the past several months, she'd been snapping at his heels rather more than Bail thought entirely necessary. Kriff, he knew he was underqualified to lead a rebellion, she didn't need to remind him constantly.

Perhaps she'd be better once Padmé was found. Surely the constant worry for her friend was souring her personality. Luke adored her, she couldn't possibly be this mean all the time.

Still, he shouldn't have snapped at her.

Sabé really was an expert in counterespionage, and on this mission, her ability to imitate Padmé was Bail's loaded die. To everyone paying attention to this sort of thing, Padmé was missing, presumed dead, and there had been a good deal of rumbling, both in the past few months and in the early days of the Empire, as to her loyalty. The beings at the meeting today would remember that, and that she'd been a loud voice in the Opposition throughout Palpatine's term as Chancellor. Her presence at the meeting would make or break their cause, for she had a credibility that he, always determined to be the cool, moderate voice of reason, had never attained.

If Bail and 'Padmé' swept into this meeting together, though, the sheer surprise would give them the upper hand they so desperately needed in negotiations. Now, Sabé was a consummate professional, not the type to back out on him over a couple of nasty comments, but all the same, she wasn't someone he wanted as an enemy.

They went back into hyperspace a few minutes later, and Bail went back to the files he'd been poring over before Mon's message had appeared on his datapad.

It was formidable stuff. Bail's resistance had a pretty good intelligence network, if he did say so himself. There was a several thousand-byte file on Ferus Olin and his associates on Bellassa, for example, and one near as large on Bo-Katan Kryze and her gang of Mando'a exiles. She was a loose cannon, violent and not terribly interested in ideals, but her men were extremely well-trained, and she had good numbers.

Then there were the others, potential rebels all. Separatist generals, a small battle group of actual, honest-to-spirits anarchists, and a handful of pacifists, by all accounts interested more in peaceful disruption and protest of the Empire's agenda. Cham Syndulla would probably be there as well, he and his Ryloth refugees.

Syndulla and Kryze were the dangerous ones, Bail thought. He'd not met either of them before, but by all accounts, they were charismatic. They each had a very specific idea of what was needed in the struggle against the Empire, and neither gave much of a vape about methods, so long as their ends were met. If this meeting was to result in a real alliance, Bail would have to temper the pair of them. The key, he thought, would be to appeal to the rest, the moderates.

Bail had made a career on doing just that, collecting those last few moderate votes to get his bills passed. To do so, he would have to show them his faction had more than a shot in the dark of winning the shadow war they'd started.

Olin would listen to him, he was sure. They shared a background, had both lost friends in Operation Knightfall, and most importantly, they shared a code. Olin had so far been unwilling to hurt civilians and not inclined to the gory 'messages' that Kryze and the anarchists had left in town squares and hung from balconies on the worlds they fought over.

Bail spent the remainder of the trip to Mon's home speechwriting. He had a pounding headache by the end, but his points were memorized and rehearsed. He felt prepared, as much as anyone could, in a situation with so many wild cards. Mon's chateau was rustic as ever, nestled between two remote crags. It belonged to an aunt of hers, in truth, but she was the only one of her family to ever use it. Between that and its position, high in the mountains, it was a safe enough meeting place, whoever this contact was.

Bail spotted the agent as soon as he debarked, standing in the shadow of a tree a few hundred yards away. They were humanoid and small, both short and slim. Bail squinted in the midday sun as the being stepped out onto the snow-dusted landing pad. The sun was bright, and the being rather far off, but he could swear-

Bail started towards her, but he only made it two steps before Sabé shot past, knocking into his shoulder as she went. He straightened up and kept walking as the two women slammed together in a tangle of arms. He reached the pair of them just as they let go of each other and Sabé growled,

"Don't you _ever_ do that to me again." The other woman was coated in a thick layer of brown dust, and dressed in grubby work clothes, her hair in a messy, dirty braid. It looked decidedly odd on her, clean and put together as she had been in his entire experience with her. And yet it was certainly Padmé Amidala, brown eyes sparking with joy at the sight of Bail.

He gathered her in for a hug, despite the grime.

"You scared us, Padmé."

"I'm sorry." She said, smiling. "Believe me, I've spent the last eight months trying to get back."

"What happened to you?" asked Sabé. "Those filthy pirates-"

"-Saved my life." Interrupted Padmé smoothly. "I had just negotiated a ship and safe passage to you all when a blockade descended on the planet, it was impossible to get through until a few days ago. Where is my son?" Sabé smiled, possibly for the first time since Luke had left the skystation.

"He's with Ahsoka, picking up some supplies. They're probably on their way to our friends on Sulon as we speak." Padmé took a deep, shaky breath, relief palpable on her face.

"I want to see him." She said.

"Well," said Bail, turning to the ship, "You'll see him soon. We've been given an opportunity to make friends, though, and I could really use your help with the politics of it all. There's a meeting on Corellia, of various dissident groups from across the Galaxy. We need their support to make this work, Padmé. You know this, I think." He made to step onto the ship but turned when no sounds of movement came from behind.

Padmé stood rooted to the snowy duracrete. Her jaw had gone tight and her eyes stormy. Sabé laid a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"They're not expected on Sulon for three days yet, Padmé." She said. "You'll beat him there, even if we go." When Padmé's frown stayed in place, she added, "The resistance, the Galaxy. We need you." Padmé shook her head.

"I'll come." Her gaze snapped to Bail, brown eyes flashing with an anger he'd never seen in his friend before, personal and low-burning like an ember. "And then you'll take me to my son."

9 BBY. Raxus, City of Tamwith Bay

Shavit. Shavit, shavit, shavit.

They were karked.

Han thumped his forehead against the cold metal table he was cuffed to. He wasn't sure, really, what the Empire did to kids with fake papers, but it couldn't be good. They'd have been better off saying they didn't have any. A trooper might take pity on a pair of kids running around with no papers, but fake ones. Fake ones meant they had something to hide.

He had to get them out of here, before the Imps did anything to Leia. He knew she was strong, stronger than any kid-maybe any person-he'd ever known, but she was just a kid.

Han was the grownup here, he could think of something. He _would_ think of something.

Two hours later, he hadn't yet.

The Imp guards weren't stupid; they kept a close eye on the cell block. Han didn't know, either, which exact cell Leia was being held in. How was it, in the holodramas, that the Brave Heroes always knew exactly which cell door to kick in to rescue their princesses?

Not that Leia was his, or a princess, sure, but she sure as all hells acted like it, sometimes. And she _sure as all hells_ needed rescuing, dammit. He had to think.

In that moment, an almighty crash sounded somewhere outside. Han jumped violently, and shot to his feet. He crossed the cell in two steps and pressed his face as close to the field as he dared. He couldn't see anything but the bare walls and a half-meter thick slab of durasteel. It led to stairs up to the ground floor, and he'd only seen it open twice, when the Imp guards had come in and gone.

There was silence for a long time after that.

Han stayed up against the field, straining to hear. He'd just stepped back and decided it was some idiot trooper dropping his helmet or something when the world kriffing ended.

Han was choking.

There was smoke everywhere, stinging his eyes and filling his throat with acrid, superheated air. It seared the inside of his lungs with every breath. His chest ached with coughing and all he could hear was ringing.

And none of it mattered, none of it, because where the _hells_ was Leia?

The field was gone, knocked out by-explosion, it must have been an explosion-and so Han stumbled through the hot, smoky cell block, calling for Leia and unable to hear his own voice. After an eternity, way too long, movement caught his eye from somewhere to his right. He spun, trying desperately to make out shapes in the haze of the bombed-out cell block, and finally saw a big chunk of rubble trembling, and then flying out to break against the opposite wall.

"Han?" The voice sounded like it was speaking underwater, but he thought he recognized it, anyway.

"Kid? Kid, is that you?" he yelled, and was rewarded by the sight of a tiny human crawling out of the corner where the big piece of wall had come from. Leia slammed into Han's midsection, arms wrapping around his waist. She was shaking. He patted at her hair, awkward, and spoke, still unable to hear his own voice right.

"Hey, we're okay, kiddo. We, uh, we gotta go, though." The smoke couldn't be good for their lungs. Leia nodded, and pulled away.

"How do we get out of here?" The words barely made it through Han's ears, but from the looks of her, hazy as she was, she was yelling.

Han looked around, smoke stinging his eyes. Everything was cast in a red, hazy glow from the emergency lights. It all looked the kriffing same, all torn metal and duracrete, and the smoke, hanging thick and gray.

"Can-" he paused to cough. "Can you do your Force thing, feel around?" She stared up at him, eyes round and tearing and terrified. But then she nodded, and shut them, face screwing up, out of fear and into concentration. For a second, Han almost thought the air got heavier around them.

"This way." Said Leia, pointing to a section of haze that was totally the same as everything else.

Han shrugged, and followed her. She staggered along, tripping her way over chunks of ceiling and walls. Sithspit, Han hoped there were no kriffing bodies down here. He'd seen a few, growing up, but he didn't think Leia ever had and she didn't need that today, on top of everything else.

Leia stopped, so suddenly that Han actually ran into her. She stretched out a hand toward a pile of rubble, coughed a couple of times, and then shoved at the empty air. The pile of stones blew apart with a muffled bang, and Han felt a cool, if pretty foul-smelling, breath of air on his face.

"Is that the-" Leia nodded.

"Yeah," she croaked. "Sewer."

9BBY. Raxus, City of Tamwith Bay.

The building was leveled, nothing left but a smoking ruin.

Luke stared in horror.

The guy from the landing strip had said that troopers had picked up Leia and Han, that they'd be in the local Imp garrison. Ahsoka hadn't wanted to leave him alone, so they'd gone together to barter them out. They were just around the corner when the roar went up, spitting flames and thick, black smoke seventy feet high.

That meant—it meant—it meant— _no_.

It _couldn't_ mean what it meant. It just couldn't. Han was his friend, Leia was his best friend, his-his sister, his _twin_ , he would know if she-

She _couldn't_ be gone, she couldn't.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" came a voice to his right. Luke's eyes shot sideways, hearing his mom's voice in his head ( _Luke, never let anyone see you eavesdrop_ ) and he spotted the speaker, a tall, spindly Umbaran. The being beside her was a small Selkath with pale green skin, and he snorted.

"Coulda done better, if LT'd let me use the new stuff we got last week." He was talking about the explosion, about the _horrible_ sight in front of them. Luke swore he could still hear the screaming. Without him really deciding to do it, Luke's fist balled up. Immediately, Ahsoka clamped a hand on his shoulder.

 _Calm yourself, Young One. We won't let them get away._ Her voice, raspy and warm, sounded in his head. Luke grit his teeth, and thought back,

 _I can stop them myself._ As he thought it, his fist clenched, tighter and tighter. The Umbaran woman tugged on her collar, and Ahsoka's hand clenched tighter on Luke's shoulder.

 _No, Luke._ _Wait_.

Luke yanked away from her. What did she know, it wasn't _her_ sister who was-was-

The Umbaran woman dropped like her knees had gone out from under her, totally limp. Luke's hand went slack. Had _he_ done that?

Beside his friend, the Selkath yelped and dove for cover, but in a flash of sunlight on copper, Ko-Iri shot out of the crowd and clamped a hand around his wrist, her gun jamming into his back.

"Easy, friend," she said, sweet and soft, "wouldn't want my finger to slip, after all." Luke was almost impressed at how not one being even looked away from the blazing fire to notice how there was a kidnapping happening.

Captain Rex followed Ko-Iri out of the group of rubberneckers, bent down smoothly, and scooped the unconscious Umbaran into his arms.

"Let's go, then." He said. Luke blinked.

"What about Han and Leia?" he yelped. Ahsoka shook her head.

"Go with Rex and Ko-Iri, okay? I'll-I'll stay here and-" she took a deep breath "-look around a little." She took Luke's hand. "I'll find them, Luke. I promise."

The trip back to the _Falcon_ was quick, with Rex and Ko-Iri hustling the Selkath prisoner and Luke as fast as their short legs would take them. The rest of the team was waiting back at the ship, Jesse and Kix sitting criss-cross on the landing ramp. They jumped up almost as soon as Luke spotted them in the distance.

"What was it?" asked Jesse, as the Selkath spat.

"Karking clones." He gowled. Ko-Iri jammed her blaster harder into his back.

"Shut up, you." She snapped. "These aresholes, plus a few more, blew up the Imperial garrison."

"The kids-" Rex snapped a hand up, demanding silence, and Luke scowled. He'd been there, space it, he _knew_ what had-

Nope. He wasn't thinking about it. Just like he wasn't thinking about Mom, or about how he apparently had a Dad, and how that meant the Mom had _lied to him_ , or about how Mom and Dad hadn't stayed together, or, or, or.

There were a lot of 'ors' in there.

They stuck the two prisoners in the _Falcon_ 's smuggling hatches, which would have been really cool if anything to do with the _Falcon_ didn't hurt right now. He tugged on Ko-Iri's sleeve.

"What are we gonna do with them?" he asked. She pulled him over to the Derjarik table and waited until he climbed up onto the padded bench.

"What do you think we should do with them?" she asked, cocking her head towards him. Luke thought about it for a moment.

"I _want_ to hurt them." He said, finally. "I don't think I'm supposed to, though. I'm supposed to say we should put them in jail, right?" Ko-Iri blinked at him a few times.

" _I_ don't think we should put them in jail." She said. "We don't even have a jail, we'd have to give them to the Imps." Luke shook his head.

"I don't think we should do that. The Imps would kill them." He knew that. The Imps had killed a traitor on the steps of Theed Palace once, when he and Mom had been there visiting Auntie Sola. He'd worn a sack on his head and 'troopers had shot him right there in front of everyone.

"So you want to hurt them because of what they did to Leia and Han, but you don't want them to die?" Luke shook his head.

"No, I don't think so. And I-I want to hurt them, I _do_ , but-Mom, and Leia, and Han, they wouldn't want me to, I don't think." Ko-Iri smiled.

"That's very wise of you." She said. "Master Tano and Rex think we should use these two as bait to catch the rest and take them to Senator Organa." Luke frowned.

"What's Senator Organa going to do with them? It's like you said, we don't really have a jail." Ko-Iri nodded.

"The Senator would probably give them the option to work for him. For his resistance."

"But-they _killed_ my friends!" said Luke, shocked. "They're-they're bad guys!" Ko-Iri sighed.

"I wish it was that simple." She said softly. "Unfortunately, we're trying to take on an Empire, kid, we can't afford to turn allies away, even if we don't like them very much." Luke scowled.

"I don't get it. They blew up-"

"An Imperial garrison." Interrupted Ko-Iri. "What they did was wrong, kid, it was. But, they're fighting against the Empire, like we are. I've blown up a few Imperial garrisons too." She reached for Luke's hand. "There isn't room for good guys and bad guys here. We're all a little bit of both. Can you accept that, do you think?"

Luke thought about it. He thought about Mom, who'd lied to him all his life, pretended to be a loyal Senator when really she wasn't, pretended his Dad was dead, that it was just the two of them, when really he had a father and-until today, anyway-a sister, too.

He thought about Han, who scowled and grumbled and Leia said had even _killed_ someone, but was always happy to show Luke the controls on the flight sims at the skystation anyway.

He thought about Ahsoka, who knew who he was, and could talk inside his head. She'd brought them here to Raxus, but she'd also made sure he was safe in the warehouse, and she'd trusted him to take care of himself, like a big kid.

"I guess." He mumbled. Ko-Iri smiled.

"Thanks, Ruwee. I know it's hard, believe me."

Captain Rex explained the plan in terse words. Their two prisoners had at least one superior; that superior would surely notice they'd been captured, and the trail back to the _Millenium Falcon_ was easy enough for a two-bit P.I. to follow. Rex meant to catch them in a trap.

Of course, as the only person present with any formal negotiation training, it was _Arana_ who'd be conducting that hostage crisis, since Commander Tano herself was still at the blown garrison, looking for the other two children-or, more likely, their remains.

Dead children with the Empire, dead children with the rebel movement. War cared not, after all, for the personal convictions of her victims. _At least nobody's offering me a bloody_ promotion _over it today_ , he thought grimly.

It was hardly fifteen minutes before the woman appeared. She was human, stocky and muscular, and though she held her hands up and well away from it, her hips and thighs were adorned with at least four guns. There were two other beings with her, another human female and a big Feeorin male, but she occupied all of his attention for the way she carried herself.

She walked as though she owned the spaceport itself, the casual arrogance of noble birth in the set of her shoulders. Arana rose smoothly to his feet, arranging his face in a dispassionate mask. His troubled heart could wait; Commander Tano was counting on him to find some justice.

"You've taken my soldiers." Said the woman. Her voice was low and hoarse, likely due to the extensive scarring splashed across the left side of her throat, face, and skull. She'd been spared any blindness, from the way her left eye focused and narrowed along with the right, but her ear was certainly a prosthetic. She continued speaking as she sauntered still closer, her voice carrying better now. "I'd like them back."

"Your soldiers broke a number of the general rules of engagement today, Madam." Arana answered, leaning into his Academy accent. She stared back, unrepentant.

"Who are you, then, the Imperial Senate, come to try me before our Honorable Emperor?" The sneer in the honorific was searing. "I'll happily take my sentence, if only His High Excellence will stand trial directly behind me." Her topaz eyes seemed to glow with the force of her anger. "You have no room to judge me, Imperial. I use the methods that work."

"Not today." Said Arana simply. She cocked her head to the side, considering his accent, his ill-fitting borrowed clothes, and behind him, Jesse, who'd just appeared from inside the ship, his Cog tattoo proudly on display.

"You aren't an Imperial at all, are you? You're the ones behind the to-do with the customs squadron. Fellow insurgents ought not to judge one another, hm?"

"Try smugglers, witch." snapped Jesse.

"Not with that tattoo, you aren't." the woman shot back. "I know a Fett clone when I see one, and besides, I knew you were coming." At Arana's raised eyebrow, she added, "Servants talk, and my men and I listen."

"Be that as it may," said Arana, hauling the negotiations back on track. "I have an offer for you."

"Going to bring us to _justice_? You know the Empire will shoot us where we stand." She shrugged. "Seems a waste."

Arana growled. "There were _children_ in there, you bloody terrorist." At that, her eyes widened just a little, the first crack in her air of casual arrogance. The Feeorin went pale, his deep green skin turning a sickly shade.

"I did not know." Said the woman, her voice utterly steady. "Believe what you like, but I did not know. When we did our recon a few hours ago, there were no prisoners in holding." Arana shrugged.

"I don't particularly care." He said. "That's for you to square with. My terms are simple. We are part of a resistance movement. You and your men can come with us and turn your talents to our cause, or we can shoot all of you here, starting with your compatriots on board my ship." As is to punctuate what he said, Ko-Iri flicked the laser sight on her sniper rifle on then, so that the woman could see its shine, settled directly between the Feeorin's eyes. To his credit, he seemed unfazed.

"And what cause is that?" asked the woman. Rex answered for him.

"We're going to free the Galaxy from Emperor Palpatine, or we're gonna die trying." She cocked her head to the side, considering both Arana and the two men behind him. Beside her, the other woman said,

"Why not, LT? Raxus was always too small for us, you said so yourself. Besides, they've got the right idea. That bastard Palpatine-" the woman nodded sharply, cutting the other woman off. She addressed Arana.

"My men and I work together, we are not second-class citizens, and I won't see any of us put on trial by hypocrites." When Arana hesitated, she added, "You might kill us all in the end, but I expect we'll take some of you with us."

"Our movement welcomes all." Said Arana finally. The woman rolled her eyes, so he added, "We don't have the numbers to do anything else." The Feeorin barked a short laugh.

"Ain't that the truth."

The three of them boarded the _Millennium Falcon_ , completely ignoring the hostile looks Rex and Jesse leveled at them as they did so. Arana hauled their comrades out of the smuggling compartments and gave Axa a minute to explain to them what had happened.

Ruwee sat still even as the whole colorful troop walked past him, staring through the derjarik table.

He stayed there, still as stone under Ko-Iri's arm, until Commander Tano appeared on the _Millenium Falcon_ 's gangway, carrying a scorched, but very much alive, nine-year-old girl on her back. Han Solo staggered aboard after them, equally scorched, and equally alive. Even as the young boy leapt to his feet and cannoned into Solo, Arana smiled.

War, it seemed, need not always get her way.

9 BBY. Lianna, Capital City of Lola Curich.

Fine. If it was a fight he wanted, Anakin could oblige him.

Wrapping the Force around him like a blanket, he twisted away from the Sith's blade as it swept toward him once more. The man's golden eyes sparked with triumph as he followed up with a lightning-fast kick. Anakin couldn't change direction in time to avoid it. The man's boot connected with Anakin's chest, knocking him into empty air. He flipped, kicked off the opposite support strut, and lunged up at the Sith, who yanked his blade back up to block the strike.

Anakin used the force of the block to bounce back off the support, on his own terms this time. He dropped through the air, and used the Force to cushion his landing on a defunct conveyor belt.

 _Just like Geonosis._

The Sith dropped down to land at the far end of the same belt.

"So you see now, _Chosen One_ , you cannot run from me. Perhaps instead you'll face me." His voice turned mocking. "I thought the Jedi had no fear." He turned his saber over his hand in a tight spiral of red. Anakin shook his head.

"Everyone feels fear, Sith." He took a breath as though to speak again, and saw the Sith settle minutely. Anakin lunged.

This time the Sith was on the defensive, barely getting his saber up in time. Their blades slammed together once more, green light flaring with the force of the collision and reflecting off the Sith Lord's eyes, momentarily shocked. Anakin grinned, savage, and spat,

"But I'm not afraid of _you_." And with that, he sank as deep into the Force as he dared, in a fight, enough that his head went spun with it. He shoved against the Sith's guard, knocking the man back with his sudden strength, steeped in the Force. Anakin pressed his advantage, forcing the Sith to step back once more, off of the conveyor. Anakin made to strike at him from above, but the Sith danced away and launched himself back up into the rafters in a series of quick bounds. Anakin grinned again, to himself this time.

After all, if he couldn't retreat to the outside, maybe he could press the Sith out instead.

He followed, leaping first to the top of the defunct assembly machines and then into the rafters. It was dark with shadows, lit only by intermittent sprays of pale daylight where they shot through the windows and skylight. Try as he might, Anakin couldn't see the Sith Lord without his bloody saber to mark him out in the darkness. He could feel the other in the Force, a sucking cold vortex of rage and fear, but the whole factory was shrouded in the dark side and Anakin couldn't locate the Sith in the Force.

Instead, he turned to the mundane, listening for the scuff of a boot or the rustle of fabric, anything to pinpoint the man's location in the dark.

There! The softest rush of air, a breath let go too loudly. Anakin spun and ignited his saber in one motion, sweeping it hard and fast at the empty air before him. The blade connected with nothing. Anakin brought it up in the classic Djem So opening, letting the gentle hum and the familiarity of the pose sink into his bones and settle his nerves. As he strained his senses once more, he could almost hear the rhythmic sounds of the Temple's lightsaber dojos. He set his back to a support strut and waited.

This time, the noise was the hiss of a saber blade snapping into being and were it not for the pillar of steel at his back, Anakin's spine would have been parted. As it was, he felt the icy energy off the tip of the saber as he spun away from the strut. The steel beneath his feet groaned as the support gave way, glowing orange, but Anakin was ready. By the time the beam started to sink under him, he was already gone, twisting in midair to catch the Sith's following strike on his saber, batting the red blade back at him.

He landed hard, collapsing into a roll along a more stable beam. Malefus was quick behind, slashing with his crimson blade. On one knee, Anakin blocked the strike and the two sabers locked. The Sith bore down with considerable strength, pushing the blades perilously close to Anakin's nose before he could gather himself. But while Anakin hadn't had the chance to duel much in the last decade, a mechanic's work was heavy labor and, once he'd centered himself, he found he was stronger than Malefus. Even as they had crept toward his face, the crossed blades shifted inexorably away once more. The Sith's snarl deepened.

Anakin kept pushing, shoving himself to his feet as he went. Malefus growled, twisting his saber viciously to break the locked blades and Anakin leaned back so as not to overbalance when the Sith jerked away. Anakin lunged for him once more, refusing to let Malefus get any distance.

They danced along the rafters, crossing blades only sporadically. Anakin's footwork and grace were sorely tested by the narrow beams, but he hadn't fallen yet, so it could be worse, he supposed. His opponent seemed no better off, anyway. Like Anakin, he hadn't stepped wrong yet, but his movements betrayed his unease at the treacherous footing. Even so, he snarled at Anakin and threw a hand out, shoving through the Force.

The push carried him off the beam and into the empty air. He hit a far rafter, hard, the air rushing out of his lungs as he rolled, coming to rest on his back. The Sith had already leapt for him, not _quite_ enough time to get to his feet, but there was a small window just behind him. Anakin grinned, seeing his chance.

As the Sith's blade swept toward him, Anakin tucked his knees in and slammed both his feet into his chest. The red blade flashed out and Anakin couldn't help a yell of shock and pain as its tip scored a thin line along his outstretched arm. It worked, though, Malefus went flying, straight into the window, which, being made of real glass, shattered as he did.

Anakin shoved himself to his feet, ignoring the pain shooting through his arm, and followed his quarry out onto the roof and out of the Stormtroopers' range.

The Sith was waiting for him, with a furious flurry of blows that Anakin raced to keep up with one-handed. His style of fighting wasn't well suited to single-handed fencing, but one glance down told him he'd have to try. The saber strike had slagged his right hand, maybe beyond repair.

Still, they were on the roof now, which meant he could get the hell _out_ of this fight. He danced backwards, leading the Sith toward the edge of the roof and weaving out of the path of the lightsaber. Malefus, who had apparently thought that Anakin would be an easy kill without his sword hand, growled as Anakin spun out of his reach once more.

"I'm getting tired of this dance, Jedi!" Anakin shrugged, projecting nonchalance into the Force and knowing it would infuriate his opponent. Maybe even enough to make him lose his grip.

"You're the one keeping it going. I tried to leave, remember?" Malefus narrowed his eyes.

"Perhaps I'll take you back to my Master, after all. I'm sure he'll appreciate your sparkling wit."

Anakin felt a twinge in the Force then, and glanced down over the edge of the roof to see a battered freighter hovering uncertainly a few hundred feet below. Well, he certainly wasn't about to stay here, so-

"I'd die first." Said Anakin softly. "Palpatine will _never_ use me as his attack dog."

The last he saw of the Sith, his face was contorted in fury, shrinking up and away as Anakin fell.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Whether you did or not, reviews are really nice, I like hearing from you guys. One Chapter left, we're so close!


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